#but if you can stomach it they are fascinating

[fangdokja]

🔞You’re his project, and he’s determined to get you right.

❤︎ Synopsis. A quiet genius watches from the shadows, studying every detail of your life with obsessive precision—until one night, his fixation turns darker, and you become the subject of his twisted, unrelenting experiment. In his world, nothing is left to chance, and you’re the only variable he can’t control.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Nerd x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanon. Beyond the Data - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 5,132

♡ TW. dom + top + older + sadistic yandere, general non-con + manipulation, rape, BDSM, somnophilia, drugging, stalking, forced oral, invasion of privacy, non-con photography and filming, intoxication kink, dumbification, slapping, degradation, humiliation, forced penetration, forced anal, name calling, slut shaming

♡ His Story. No one else noticed the quiet boy in the corner, but he’s all you’ll notice now.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who is the last person you’d expect to command fear—or obsession. The invisible boy in the corner of the lecture hall, whose name you can never seem to remember. Just another cog in the academic machine, unnoticed and unremarkable.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who didn’t always hate you. At first, he didn’t even notice you. Why would he? You were a speck in his meticulously ordered world of formulas and research papers. He’d glance over you like a book’s preface—skimming, dismissive, uninterested. You weren’t worth his attention, and he wasn’t one for distractions.

Until you were.

♡ Yandere! Nerd whose hatred began with quiet disdain. He couldn’t stand the way you disrupted the sanctity of his intellectual space. Your kindness was a flaw, a weak and irritating crack in the facade of academia. The way you lent your notes to struggling classmates, stayed late to tutor those who would never return the favor.

“Naïve,” he muttered once under his breath, watching you push a stack of papers toward a crying peer. “They’re just using you.”

But you didn’t care. You never did.

♡ Yandere! Nerd whose resentment festered in the shadows. Watching your muted empathy, your small, unnoticed acts of kindness, twisted his stomach in ways he couldn’t understand. You were supposed to fail. You were supposed to get crushed beneath the weight of your own optimism, yet you didn’t.

And that infuriated him.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who told himself he hated you because you were soft, too forgiving, too simple. But the truth was far darker. You represented something he’d never had—a warmth that lingered in the spaces between your quiet gestures. A kindness that was not weakness, but strength. You had no armor, and yet you thrived.

It fascinated him. It enraged him.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who lived a life of quiet detachment. He wasn’t bullied in school—no, he was too invisible for that. Teachers praised his brilliance, but no one remembered his name. His height, his looming presence, the stretch of taut muscle beneath oversized sweaters—they didn’t matter when he kept to himself, a ghost haunting the edges of the classroom.

Invisibility was his refuge, and he sharpened his mind in its silence.

♡ Yandere! Nerd whose physical strength was a quiet secret. Long hours spent weightlifting in the dim light of the university gym weren’t for vanity—they were an escape, a distraction, a way to channel the dark energy gnawing at him. But he never cared about the results.

The thick-framed glasses, the slouching posture, the ill-fitting cardigans—these were his camouflage. No one saw him. No one looked past the surface.

Except you.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins his descent like any good scientist—methodically. It starts as observation, the kind you’d expect from someone who’s spent his life reducing the world into formulas and equations. You are a variable, an anomaly, something he must decode to restore order to his meticulously organized life.

But the more he observes, the less he understands. And the more it drives him mad.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who tells himself it’s harmless at first. Watching you from across the library, tracking the soft scratch of your pen as it glides over your notebook. He doesn’t even realize he’s memorized the way your eyebrows knit together in concentration, or how you chew the corner of your lip when you’re stuck on a problem.

It’s data. Just data.

But the data begins to haunt him.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins cataloging you like a research subject. He keeps a notebook tucked into the bottom drawer of his desk, hidden beneath a pile of unfinished assignments. Every detail about you goes into it: the time you arrive at class (always ten minutes early), the number of steps you take to reach your favorite seat, the precise way the sunlight catches your hair at 3:17 p.m. on the third floor of the library.

He calls it fieldwork to justify the growing obsession.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who found himself lingering at the edges of your world, desperate for scraps. The smell of your shampoo as you walked past. The faint imprint of your handwriting left on discarded papers.

You didn’t notice the way his hands flexed when you leaned too close to another classmate, or the way his jaw clenched when someone touched your arm.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who is painfully aware of how wrong it is. He’s not stupid. He knows that following you home, counting the number of locks on your door, isn’t something a sane person does. But logic isn’t enough to stop him.

You’re a virus in his brain, disrupting his calculations, infecting his thoughts with something he doesn’t know how to purge. You grate on him in all the wrong ways, the way a scratch disrupts a perfect vinyl record. He hates you for it. He hates you because he can’t stop.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who turns his obsession into an experiment. He programs an algorithm to track your social media activity, compiling your posts, photos, and even deleted comments into a neat timeline. He bookmarks the articles you share, cataloging your interests, your values, your humor.

It’s not enough. It’s never enough.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who upgrades his methods when simple observation no longer satisfies. He rigs a tiny camera outside the lecture hall, angled perfectly to catch the way you sit, the absent way you tap your foot when you’re bored. He sets up a recording app on his phone to capture the sound of your voice in class discussions, replaying it later as though decoding a foreign language.

He tells himself it’s for research. He just needs to understand you.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who learns your patterns better than you know them yourself. He can predict where you’ll be at any given time—your favorite coffee shop at 8:43 a.m., the library desk in the northeast corner by 6:12 p.m., your solitary walks through the park on Sunday mornings.

He times his own movements to yours, ensuring you never notice his presence, never feel the weight of his gaze. It’s a game to him now—a test of his own skill.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who hacks into your student profile. It’s easy, really, a puzzle too simple to satisfy his intellect. But he doesn’t do it for the challenge; he does it to see your schedule, your grades, the tiny notes professors leave about you.

“Exceptional work ethic,” one professor writes, and he feels a strange swell of pride, as though your achievements are his own.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins collecting physical traces of you. A pen you leave behind in class, its cap chewed and frayed. A receipt from the coffee shop, crumpled and discarded. A strand of hair caught in the strap of your backpack.

Each item is cataloged and stored in a small box beneath his bed, a grotesque shrine to the person you’ll never realize he’s built.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who upgrades his “research” to something darker. He creates a fake identity to join your online study group, posing as a fellow student struggling with the material. It gives him access to your unfiltered thoughts, your casual messages and inside jokes.

The first time you reply to his fake account with a laughing emoji, his heart races. He hates himself for it, for the pathetic thrill it gives him, but he keeps going.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who hated you because you didn’t need him. You were brilliant in your own quiet way, a top student who never flaunted your achievements. You had what he lacked: empathy. Warmth. The ability to be seen without being scrutinized.

But the more he learns, the more he realizes something crucial:

He doesn’t want to study you anymore. He wants to control you.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who justifies it all as self-preservation. You’re the one invading his mind, disrupting his focus, ruining his carefully constructed life. If he could just fix you—if he could break you down into something manageable, something his mind could dominate—then he’d finally have peace.

But until then, he’ll keep collecting his data, keep tightening the web around you. Because in his world, nothing is left unresolved.

And you, his most maddening equation, will not be the exception.

———

♡ Yandere! Nerd who loathes admitting weakness—especially emotions as primal and irrational as jealousy. To him, emotions are nothing but noise, disrupting the signal of his perfectly calibrated mind. But when he sees you with the student council president, laughing, leaning close, sharing those little stolen moments, that noise becomes deafening.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who bristles at the mere sight of him. The president, all polished charm and perfect manners, standing too close to you, lingering too long in your orbit. It’s infuriating how you light up around him, your shy, carefully guarded smiles breaking into easy laughter. It’s infuriating how he can’t simply classify this feeling as irrational anger.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who watches the subtle chemistry between you and the president unfold like a slow-motion car crash. The president’s hand brushing yours as he passes you a folder. The way he leans in slightly when you speak, as though hanging on your every word. And worst of all, the way you don’t pull away.

♡ Yandere! Nerd whose jealousy turns into something darker when he overhears the president call you “special.”

It’s a simple word, tossed casually into a conversation, but it ignites a fire in his chest that he can’t put out. Special? You’re special to him? No, that’s wrong. That’s his word for you, even if he’s never dared to say it out loud.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who recognizes his jealousy with clinical detachment. He hates you for making him feel this way—off-kilter, vulnerable, human. He hates the president even more for daring to tread on what’s his, for invading the carefully cultivated space he’s built around you.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who tells himself it’s not jealousy—it’s concern. He’s only protecting you from someone who might not have your best interests at heart. After all, the president isn’t as perfect as he seems. He’s seen the cracks in that polished facade, the weaknesses he could exploit if necessary.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins to sabotage the president in small, insidious ways. A corrupted file here, a misplaced document there. Minor inconveniences that disrupt the president’s perfect image, planting seeds of doubt in those around him.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who knows this isn’t sustainable. The jealousy, the hatred, the dark fantasies that creep into his mind every time he sees you with the president—it’s all spiraling out of control. He needs to act, to take back the control that’s slipping through his fingers.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who tells himself he doesn’t need you to love him back. He just needs to remove the variables—the distractions, the threats.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who begins plotting his next move with the cold, calculating precision of a scientist. Because if he can’t have you, no one else will.

———

♡ Yandere! Nerd finally went through with his main plan, a way to make you see him, to make you need him. He pulled out a small vial of clear liquid, his heart racing as he approached you. "Tonight," he murmured to himself, "I'll finally get what I deserve."

With meticulous care, he mixed the potent sleeping agent into the cup of drink you'd left on your nightstand. It was your favorite. He knew it was your go-to drink for winding down after a long day.

As your eyelids grew heavy and your breathing deepened, he approached you, his steps silent on the plush carpet. He set the drugged tea aside and gently lifted your limp body, placing you in the center of the bed. He couldn't help but admire you, the way you looked so innocent, so vulnerable.

It was intoxicating, and he felt a perverse sense of satisfaction knowing he was about to shatter that purity.

♡ Yandere! Nerd undressed you with trembling hands, his eyes greedily taking in every curve and line of your body. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent under your breath, but the drugs held firm. He took his time, savoring each moment as he stripped away your layers of clothing. When you were bare, he stepped back to appreciate his handiwork, his erection straining against his pants. He felt like a sculptor revealing a masterpiece hidden beneath a layer of marble.

With a predatory smile, he unbuckled his belt and stepped closer to the bed. He leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck. "Do you know how much I've wanted this?" he whispered, his voice thick with lust. You murmured something indistinct, lost in the fog of the drugs. "No," he chuckled, "you don't. But you will."

♡ Yandere! Nerd grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. His teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that you couldn't control. You whimpered, a sound that only served to excite him further. He didn't need your consent—not really. You were his to use, to break, to shape into the perfect specimen. His hands roamed over your body, leaving bruises in their wake as he explored every inch of your skin. Each touch was a declaration of ownership, a promise of what was to come.

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes glittering with a dark excitement as he took in your unconscious form. His hands, rough and calloused from countless hours in the gym and lab, caressed your inner thighs, spreading them apart with a gentle cruelty.

You were his now, a blank canvas for his twisted desires. He didn't bother with foreplay; your pleasure was inconsequential. It was all about the thrill of taking what he wanted.

With a grunt, he plunged into you, his thick cock stretching your sleep-loosened pussy. You gasped, a sound that was half-moan, half-whimper, as he filled you completely.

♡ Yandere! Nerd didn't bother to hold back, his hips slamming into yours with the precision of a machine. You were just a receptacle for his lust, a means to an end. Each thrust was a declaration of dominance, a silent claim that you belonged to him and him alone.

As he fucked you, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear—degrading names that made your skin crawl.

"Dumb fucking slut," he murmured, his voice a dark symphony that seemed to echo in the quiet room. "You're mine now. No one else will ever touch you like this." His words were a blend of anger and adoration, a twisted love letter to the girl who'd unwittingly captured his attention.

Your body responded despite the haze of the drugs. You arched your back, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming even through the fog. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but your body was his plaything, reacting on instinct alone.

♡ Yandere! Nerd noticed your involuntary movements and smirked, his strokes becoming more deliberate, more punishing.

"That's it," he cooed, his breath hot against your skin. "You love it, don't you? Being used like a cheap slut."

As he pounded into you, he reached for his phone, the screen casting a harsh blue light across the room.

♡ Yandere! Nerd began to record, capturing every moan and whimper, every tear that slipped from your closed eyes. He'd study this footage later, memorize your reactions, learn what made you squirm and beg.

It was all for science, for understanding. But deep down, he knew it was more than that—it was about power.

Your legs trembled around him, a silent plea for mercy that went unheard. You were lost in the haze of the drugs, unable to form coherent thoughts. The only reality was the relentless pressure building inside you, the way his cock filled and emptied you with a rhythm that seemed to echo through your soul. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, a nightmare wrapped in the guise of pleasure.

♡ Yandere! Nerd reached down and pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he watched your face contort with pain.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. You tried to focus on him through the fog, your glazed eyes fluttering open to meet his. He was so close, his face a twisted mask of desire and something else—something darker.

"You're mine," he said again, his voice a hiss in the quiet room. "You're mine to fuck, to use, to break."

♡ Yandere! Nerd grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his as he continued to fuck you with a ferocity that seemed to come from a place beyond obsession. His hand was slick with the sweat that coated your body, his grip tight as he held you in place.

The camera's cold eye recorded everything, the unblinking gaze of his twisted love. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on your face as he whispered, "Look at how much I own you, bitch."

Your eyes rolled back in your head, a silent protest to the waves of pain and pleasure that crashed over you. His other hand reached down to rub at your clit, his movements rough and unyielding.

♡ Yandere! Nerd watched with clinical interest as your body responded, his own pleasure mounting with each twitch and jerk of your hips.

"You're going to cum for me," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You're going to cum and show me how much you love being used."

You feel his hand leave your chin, instead wrapping around your throat, squeezing just tight enough to cut off your air, but not enough to cause you to pass out. His eyes bore into yours, demanding your full attention. your vision swims, and your breath hitches as he continues to thrust into you.

His other hand is still on your clit, the harsh strokes matching the rhythm of his hips. Each time you're about to slip away into unconsciousness, he loosens his grip slightly, allowing you to gasp for breath. The mix of oxygen deprivation and intense pleasure is a heady cocktail, making your body respond in ways you never knew it could.

The drugs he'd administered had reached their peak effectiveness, plunging you into a state of absolute vulnerability.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and your body went slack as he continued his brutal assault, his cock hammering into your swollen, abused pussy with a merciless rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of agony crashing through you, but your mind was too far gone to process it as anything other than a distant sensation.

You were nothing more than a ragdoll in his grip, a toy for his sadistic pleasure.

♡ Yandere! Nerd whispers lowly, "You're so fucking beautiful like this," his voice thick with lust as he watched your body spasm beneath him.

"So dumb and helpless. It's like you're begging for it." He leaned in, his teeth grazing your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and moist.

"You love this, don't you, bitch? Being fucked by someone who sees through all your bullshit?" His hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your air once again.

Your body succumbs to the overwhelming stimulation, a series of intense orgasms rip through you, one after the other. You're too high and too intoxicated to fully understand what's happening, but the raw pleasure is undeniable.

You feel like a marionette with cut strings, your body responding to his touch without thought or resistance.

Each time you climax, a strangled gasp escapes your throat, your eyes rolling back in your head as your back arches off the bed.

♡ Yandere! Nerd watches with a mix of triumph and fascination, his own pleasure building as he takes in your complete and utter surrender.

"Good girl," he murmurs, the praise sticking in your throat like a knife. "Take it all for me." His strokes become more erratic as his own orgasm approaches, his breath hitching in his chest.

The hand around your throat tightens, the pressure increasing until your vision starts to fade. Just when you think you can't handle anymore, he slams into you one last time, his body stiffening as he cums deep inside you. He holds you there, his cock pulsing, his grip on your throat unyielding until he's drained himself completely.

With a sick sense of satisfaction, he watches the last twitches of your body as the drugs overtake you fully.

♡ Yandere! Nerd withdraws his cock, already planning the next round of his twisted experiment. His eyes rake over your limp form, noticing the way your breasts rise and fall with each shallow breath, the way your pussy glistens with his cum and your own juices.

He can't resist the urge to touch you, to play with his new toy, so he starts snapping pictures and recording videos, capturing every inch of your exposed flesh from various angles.

♡ Yandere! Nerd positions your unresponsive body into various degrading poses, each one more obscene than the last.

The camera clicks away, capturing every angle as he spreads your legs wide and fills your pussy with his cum. His eyes never leave the viewfinder as he watches the white fluid ooze out of you, painting your thighs and stomach with his ownership.

He's methodical in his approach, treating you like a living, breathing doll. With each picture and video taken, his arousal builds, his cock swelling and pulsing with the need to claim you again.

"Wake up," he whispers, his voice a dark promise.

♡ Yandere! Nerd slaps your cheek harshly, leaving a vivid red handprint, before he waits for any sign of consciousness. When you don't respond, he sighs and shakes his head.

"Too much, huh?" He reaches down and slaps you again, this time harder. "You're going to learn to wake up for me." His hand travels down to your clit, giving it a cruel pinch that makes your body jerk despite your unconscious state.

With your unconscious body still splayed out before him, the his hunger is far from satisfied. He takes a moment to appreciate the scene, his cock standing erect and gleaming with lust.

♡ Yandere! Nerd shifts you onto your stomach, the soft curves of your ass begging for his attention. He lines himself up with your wet, puckered hole and slams into you without warning, the sound of his hips slapping against your flesh echoing through the room.

He groans in pleasure as he feels the tightness of your ass clench around him, the drugs in your system making you even more pliable and responsive than usual.

"You're going to love this," he murmurs, his voice low and menacing as he starts to fuck you roughly. Each thrust is punctuated by a smack to your ass, the sound of his hand connecting with your flesh filling the room.

You whimper in your sleep, the pain and pleasure mixing together in your hazy mind. He reaches around to play with your clit, his rough fingers bringing you closer to the edge of consciousness with each pass. "You're so tight," he grunts, his teeth gritted with effort. "So fucking tight."

♡ Yandere! Nerd flips you over again, your limp body now lying on your back, your legs hanging over the edge of the bed. He takes a moment to capture the perfect shot of your exposed pussy, the way your swollen lips are parted and dripping with cum and your own arousal. He's in no rush; he's got all night.

For hours, he treats your body like a fuck-toy, his cock sliding in and out of you in a series of depraved positions that he's been dreaming about for so long.

The camera captures everything—the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, the arch of your back as he takes you from behind, the way your eyes roll back in your head even in your drug-induced slumber.

♡ Yandere! Nerd continues to whisper degrading names in your ear, calling you his little fuckdoll, his rape toy, his property. His hand tightens around your neck, his other hand playing with your clit, your body responding to his touch despite your lack of consciousness.

♡ Yandere! Nerd takes you in every conceivable way, his cock a blur as he snaps photos and records videos for his twisted collection. He loves the way your body reacts to him, the way your pussy clenches around him when you're on the brink of an involuntary orgasm.

It's like watching a science experiment unfold before his very eyes, a symphony of pain and pleasure that he's orchestrated to perfection.

And the best part? You'll never remember a thing.

"Mm, you're so obedient when you're like this," he says, his voice thick with lust as he pulls out of your ass and flips you onto your stomach again.

♡ Yandere! Nerd spreads your cheeks wide, his cock sliding through your folds as his hand grips your mouth. "Open up, bitch. Time to swallow your medicine."

With a sadistic smirk, he positions his cock at your open, drooling mouth. He's already painted your cheeks and chin with his cum, a grotesque mask of his dominance. Your eyes remain closed, lashes fluttering with the fading aftermath of your forced orgasms. He pushes the tip of his cock past your lips, watching them stretch around his girth.

♡ Yandere! Nerd films as he slams his cock down your throat, watching the way your cheeks bulge with each thrust. Your tongue is limp and unresponsive, but it doesn't matter—the sight of your mouth filled with his cum is all he needs.

He holds your head steady, pushing deeper and deeper until he hits the back of your throat, making you gag around his length. He loves the sound, the way your body fights against his intrusion even as you lie there, helpless and drugged.

"That's it," he croons, his eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. "Swallow it all for me. Show me how much of a good rape toy you can be." He keeps fucking your mouth, his hips snapping against your face with increasing ferocity. You're just a vessel for his pleasure, a receptacle for his anger and frustration.

♡ Yandere! Nerd pulls out with a wet pop, leaving your mouth gaping and coated in his seed. He takes a moment to admire the view before sliding his cock back into your pussy, groaning as he feels your wet warmth envelop him once more. He's lost in his own depraved world, the camera capturing every sickening detail of his violation.

"Look at you," he says, his voice a mix of disgust and admiration.

"You're just a mindless fuck-doll when you're like this." He fists your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. His teeth graze the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of bites that you'll feel tomorrow, a constant reminder of his power over you.

"But tomorrow, you'll go back to being the perfect little student, won't you?" He bites down harder, making you whimper in your sleep. "You'll sit in class with no idea that you're mine."

His camera clicks away as he captures every depraved moment of his violation. Your unconscious moans and whimpers fill the room, a testament to his cruel touch.

♡ Yandere! Nerd records from various angles, making sure to get close-ups of your gaping mouth and the way your eyes water around his cock. His hands are rough, holding you in place as he uses your body for his own sick pleasure. The camera zooms in on your throat as he fucks your face, the veins bulging as he forces himself deeper and deeper.

He pulls out of your mouth with a wet, gagging sound, your saliva and cum dripping down your chin. He smirks at the pathetic mess you've become under his control.

Grabbing a back-up phone, he takes several more pictures of your face—your swollen, bitten lips, your tear-stained cheeks, the drool pooling around your chin. Then he moves lower, taking shots of your bruised pussy and asshole, both gaping open and leaking his cum. He zooms in on the mess he's made of you, capturing every detail with a disturbing sense of pride.

♡ Yandere! Nerd continues his sadistic play, his hand moving to your throat once more as he whispers his degrading comments into your ear. "You're nothing but a damn pornstar, aren't you?"

He leans in closer, his hot breath tickling your ear. "Look at you, trying to wake up. Don't worry, I'll make sure you won't remember a thing, prostitute."

With a chuckle, he slaps you across the face—hard enough to leave a red handprint, but not hard enough to rouse you fully. The sound echoes through the room, a stark contrast to the muffled squelches of your forced union.

———

♡ Yandere! Nerd who finally admitted it to himself in the aftermath of this night, in the suffocating silence of his apartment. It wasn’t hatred. It wasn’t admiration. It was possession. You didn’t belong in a world that appreciated you.

You belonged to him, as a dumb fuckdoll for him to use and discard as he pleases.

♡ Yandere! Nerd who never intended for it to go this far. But as he crouched over your crumpled form, his hand brushing the soft curve of your cheek, he realized there was no going back.

“Do you see me now, fuckdoll?” he murmured, his voice growling with a strange mix of triumph and obsession.

And, he was still far from done. He has all night, and more.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth

[the-fab-fox]

The reason I love this show is because it's the only show where a normal every day guy becomes the bad guy but it's done in a way that actually pretty realistic when it comes down to it.

You are not supposed to like Walt. By the end, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to hate and despise him. But at the same time, you can also see where he is coming from. You can also see where all the characters are coming from.

The thing I was most surprised about was that I was rooting for Hank, Walter's brother-in-law the whole time. And I don't like cops. At all. But I like Hank as a person and he is a good cop. Like I feel like he would not see a poc and immediately think 'he must be the culprit'. Y'know. But regardless of that, Hank the cop, is the GOOD guy. (Jessie I would say started as kinda an anti-hero but his guy at the end. Like he's always been good but Walter definitely messed with his head.)

And it's wild to come at it from this angle which is why I think the show did so well aside from the writing and the amazing cast of actors.

The worst thing is, while I felt bad for Skyler, I didn't like her. I didn't like her at all. But that's personality and that's only because we only see her at her worst because of Walt. Far too many people hate on her when really, we shouldn't be. Like yes she took advantage of the situation but really, who wouldn't, especially in this economy. That does make her an accomplice, but she is not the evil. Walter is. He even says it. "I'm the one who knocks." Skyler has no power. Walt holds power over her honestly.

And it also has one of the best written and most charismatic big villains I've ever seen in any media. Giancarlo Esposito is absolutely show-stopping and scene-stealing as the sociopathic (I cannot see him not being sociopathic with everything he's done) Gus Fring.

So yeah. Just do fascinating to watch the real time (for the most part) collapse of a man into madness and evil.

It's so crazy. If you haven't watched it, and can stomach some level of blood and gore (mostly not the really gruesome stuff except an explosion at one point is off screen and we at most see the aftermath), then I strongly urge y'all to give it a try.

[mssorceressupreme]

You Belong With Me | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: it almost felt like unrequited love to you, until you agreed to go to the Yule ball with George, causing his twin brother to get jealous.

Warnings/tags: jealousy, arguing, dancing in the rain, kissing in the rain (when's it gonna be my turn), mutual pining, fred longs for you <3, ending is soo fluffy

———

The cool autumn breeze swept across the courtyard as you and Hermione lounged on a stone bench, basking in a rare moment of calm amidst the Yule Ball frenzy that had overtaken the castle. The two of you were deep in conversation, discussing something far removed from the glittering event.

Hermione was talking about her fascination with ancient runes, her voice animated.

“I just think it’s incredible,” she said, her fingers tracing an invisible symbol in the air. “Languages so old they’ve shaped magic itself. Imagine being able to read something no one else in the room understands.”

You smiled, leaning back against the bench. “I’ll stick to words I can actually pronounce, thanks. Besides, isn’t it enough that half the textbooks at this school might as well be in a foreign language?”

Hermione laughed softly. “Fair point. But honestly, there’s something thrilling about deciphering mysteries.”

You were about to respond when Cho Chang appeared, her face lit up like a thousand fairy lights. “Guess what?” she exclaimed, plopping down beside Hermione, who immediately brightened at her arrival.

“What?” Hermione asked, leaning forward with curiosity.

“Cedric asked me to the ball!” Cho squealed, clutching her hands together.

Your grin mirrored hers. “That’s amazing, Cho! He’s one of the most sought-after guys in school. Everyone’s going to be jealous.”

Cho flushed with delight, her excitement infectious. “I still can’t believe it. He just came up to me after Charms and asked. Like it was nothing!”

The three of you giggled, and soon the conversation shifted to the ball itself—who would ask whom, what dresses to wear, and how the hall might be decorated.

“Have you two thought about who you might ask?” Cho asked, leaning forward with a curious glint in her eyes.

Hermione glanced away, suddenly absorbed in adjusting the clasp of her cloak. “I—I don’t really know yet,” she mumbled.

Your stomach twisted slightly at the question, though you kept your face neutral. “No one in mind,” you said lightly, though your heart was screaming a different answer: Fred.

The thought of him filled your mind, as it often did lately. His quick wit, the sparkle in his eyes when he was planning a prank, the way his laughter could light up the darkest of days. You could barely imagine him asking you, but the hope lingered all the same.

Cho giggled, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Well, whoever you pick, you’ll have to tell me everything! It’s all anyone’s talking about in Ravenclaw Tower.”

The conversation drifted to Potions, which happened to be our next class, but your mind remained on Fred. Would he ask someone else?

___

The next afternoon, the library was quieter than usual, save for the occasional scratch of quills on parchment. You were deeply engrossed in your Potions notes when George slid into the seat beside you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said with a grin, tossing a book onto the table.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t you be off plotting your next big prank with Fred?”

He clutched his chest with a dramatic gasp. “Ouch. I’m perfectly capable of studying, thank you very much.”

You chuckled, turning back to your notes as he whipped out his textbook.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm of studying, punctuated by George’s occasional quips and your amused replies. It was comfortable, even fun. Halfway through, he leaned closer, his tone suddenly earnest.

“So, the Yule Ball,” he started, tapping his quill against the table.

You looked up, curious. “What about it?”

He grinned, though there was something tentative about it. “Well, I was wondering if you’d go with me.”

Your heart stuttered. For a split second, you pictured Fred’s face instead of George’s, and disappointment flooded your chest.

But then you saw the hope in George’s eyes and felt a sense of guilt. He was lovely in his own right, and you couldn’t imagine saying no to someone so kind.

“Sure,” you said after a moment, offering a small smile. “I’d love to Georgie.”

He was one of your closest friends after all, how could you say no to George? Besides, at least you wouldn't be attending the ball alone. ___

Later that day, you found yourself in the Great Hall during study period. The long tables were packed with students working on essays and assignments, and the low hum of conversation filled the space. You sat with Hermione, Harry, and Ron, your quill scratching against the parchment as you tried to focus.

The doors swung open, and your heart skipped a beat as Fred entered, his presence commanding the room without even trying. His tie was slightly askew, his hair tousled in that effortlessly handsome way of his.

You quickly looked down at your parchment, forcing yourself to concentrate. But then Fred sat across from you, and ignoring him became impossible.

“Looking forward to the ball?” he asked casually, his eyes meeting yours.

You managed a nod. “Yeah, should be fun.” If you went with me.

George, seated beside you, grinned and announced loudly, “Right?We’re going together!”

The group erupted in congratulations. “So, you two, huh?” Ron teased, his eyebrows waggling.

You forced a smile as the attention turned to you and George. Across the table, Fred’s expression fell, though he quickly masked it with a laugh.

"You two? That'll be entertaining. Best put extra protection over your toes Y/N, George isn't exactly the best dancer."

The laughter around the table grew louder, students chiming in with their own quips and jokes about the Yule Ball. You tried to join in, but your focus kept slipping back to Fred.

Every time George leaned closer to you or made you laugh, Fred’s jaw tightened, his fingers drumming against the table in a steady, agitated rhythm.

George, oblivious to his twin’s mood, grinned and nudged you with his elbow. “You’ll see, Y/N. Fred might think he’s the charming one, but wait until you’re spinning across the dance floor with me. I’ll have you thinking I invented the waltz.”

Fred scoffed audibly, folding his arms. “Yeah, right. And she’ll probably need a Healer for her toes by the end of the night. Smooth moves, George.”

George chuckled, brushing off the jab. “Jealous much, Freddie?”

That struck a nerve. Fred’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward. “Jealous? Of you? You’re dreaming, mate.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like it’s a crime for her to have a decent time at the ball.”

“Decent time? That’s rich, coming from the guy who can’t even sit still during dinner without knocking something over.”

George’s grin faltered, his tone sharpening. “What’s your problem? You’ve been acting like this since I asked her.” He asked, loud enough for only him and Fred to hear. But George, knew exactly what was up.

“Maybe my problem is you jumping in when you knew—” Fred stopped abruptly, clenching his jaw as if he’d said too much.

The table grew quieter as Snape walked by, making sure students were doing work without chatting away, a few heads turning toward the brewing tension. Your heart raced as you glanced between them, unsure whether to step in.

“Knew what, Fred?” George pressed, his own temper starting to rise.

Fred opened his book, a little too harshly, his voice low but laced with frustration. “Forget it. Enjoy your ‘decent time,’ George.”

Not long after, you all found yourselves immersed in studying.

Moments later, Fred tossed a note to Ron, saying “Get a move on, or all the good ones will have gone.”

Ron groaned. “Who are you going with, then?”

Fred didn’t reply. Instead, he rolled another paper ball and lobbed it at Angelina, who turned to Fred, mouthing "What?"

He asked her to the ball. He asked her to the ball. When she nodded in response, your chest tightened painfully.

You felt your chest constrict as you watched the exchange. He asked Angelina. The words echoed in your mind, drowning out the noise around you.

You buried your face in your parchment, pretending to be absorbed in your work, but Hermione’s hand on your arm told you she saw right through you.

Fred glanced at you briefly, his gaze almost apologetic, but you refused to meet his eyes. Instead, you leaned closer to Hermione, trying to block him out.

Whatever, you were going with George anyway, why did Fred matter.

___

The night of the ball arrived, and you met George at the entrance. He was charming as ever, complimenting your dress with a sincere warmth that made you feel beautiful.

“You look stunning,” George said as he approached, his grin warm and genuine.

“Thanks, and you look very handsome” you replied, offering a small smile as he led you inside.

The Hall was breathtaking, transformed into a winter wonderland. But as your eyes scanned the room, they immediately found Fred, your heart faltered at the sight of him with Angelina. He looked devastatingly handsome in his dress robes, his hair neatly combed, though still with that familiar unruly edge.

Fred caught your eye for a fleeting moment, his lips curving into a faint smile, but he quickly turned away. You forced yourself to smile and focused on George, determined not to let your emotions show.

“Let’s say hi,” George suggested, steering you toward his twin.

Fred’s eyes met yours as you approached, and for a moment, everything else faded away. But then he turned to Angelina, jealousy flashing in his gaze before he quickly hid it.

The night went on, the music swelling and laughter filling the air. You danced with George, smiled for the photos, and laughed with friends, but your heart wasn’t in it. Fred was never far from your thoughts, and you couldn’t stop glancing his way.

You sat at the table with George, Lee and Oliver, having some punch to hydrate yourselves after all that dancing.

Across the room, Fred’s gaze kept finding you, a flicker of longing evident in his eyes, though you never noticed.

When he wasn't looking, your eyes found him, and when you glanced away, his gaze found you.

You watched as he laughed with Angelina, something stirred inside you, wishing that was you. Around the room, couples were dancing happily, laughter echoing throughout the room which you drowned out.

You always knew you liked Fred, but this was the first time your emotions felt stronger than ever. You'd never dare admit it, but your heart ached for him, and tonight was the tipping point.

Turning to George, you excused yourself for some air, slipping out into the courtyard as tears welled up.

The first raindrops began to fall as you sat on a bench, cold air biting against your skin as your tears slowly spilled over despite your efforts to hold them back.

You didn't care about the rain; you just sat there.

___

Back inside, Fred’s eyes followed you as you left, a slight frown played upon his lips as he watched you scurry out.

“Go,” Angelina said softly, nudging him.

“What?” Fred asked, startled.

“She likes you, Fred. And it’s obvious you like her too, I see the way you look at her. Stop being an idiot and do something about it.” She chuckled.

Realisation dawned on his face, and without another word, he ran after you.

The rain was pouring by the time he found you. Without thinking, he took off his blazer and held it over your head as he approached. You looked up seeing a tall figure tower over you, holding a blazer over you.

He got soaked, but didn't mind one bit, as long as it kept you dry.

“Mind some company?” he asked, sitting beside you, now extending the blazer over his head too, leaving the two of you huddled under his blazer together.

“Fred, just go,” you said, not looking at him.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice soft. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Crying, no less.”

You turned to him, your heart breaking all over again. “Shouldn’t you be with Angelina?”

Fred shook his head. “There’s nothing between us." He continued, "You do know that she has a thing George, right?”

“Then why didn’t you—” You stopped yourself, unable to finish the thought.

“Because I was too much of a coward to ask you,” Fred admitted, his voice raw. “George knew that, so he stepped in, he just needed to push my buttons that git. But it’s always been you. Only you.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world stood still.

“Fred...”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You’re the one I’ve wanted all along.”

Tears welled up again, but this time they were different. You laughed softly, shaking your head. “How did the wrong twin ask the wrong date to the ball?”

Fred chuckled, his hand reaching to tuck a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

You leaned closer, and Fred closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that made everything else fade away.

The kiss was as sweet as his words were, you tasted a linger of punch he drank from earlier, "Mhm, sweet." You giggled. He smiled into the kiss, before leaning back in for another kiss, removing the blazer from above so he could hold you closer to him.

Fred pulled you closer by the waist, holding you like he was going to lost you. "Merlin, you're the most beautiful girl to ever exist." He complimented sincerely.

You blushed, looking down, "Stop it..." you scoff but bit back a smile.

His inspected your face, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, smiling as he did so. The look of love. And you into his, those warm hazel eyes you always dreamed of, finally looking at you in this light.

The soft hum of music floated through the night air, carried from the Great Hall to the quiet courtyard. The sound of a slow, enchanting melody was muffled by the rain but still audible enough to make your heartpace increase.

“They’re playing a slow one now,” he said, his gaze fixed on you.

His hazel eyes warmer than the rain, a playful yet nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Dance with me.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“Dance with me,” he repeated, standing up and holding a hand out to you. Raindrops clung to his hair, the dim light from the castle casting a faint glow around him. “It’d be a shame to let a good song go to waste.”

You stared at his hand, your heart fluttering as you hesitated. “Fred, it’s raining.”

“All the better.” He grinned, his usual confidence creeping back into his voice. “Come on, Y/N. You’re already soaked, and we’re already out here. What’ve we got to lose?”

Despite yourself, you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re absurd.”

“And yet, here you are, sitting next to me.” He wiggled his fingers, his hand still extended. “Now, are you going to make me stand here looking like a git, or are you going to dance with me?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile spreading across your face. With a sigh of surrender, you placed your hand in his, letting him pull you to your feet.

The rain was cool against your skin as Fred tugged you closer, one hand resting lightly on your waist, the other still holding your hand.

You hesitated, unsure of where to place your free hand, and he chuckled, guiding it to his shoulder.

“There,” he said softly. “Not so hard, is it?”

The music from the hall swirled around you both as he began to sway, leading you gently. You stumbled at first, unprepared for the sudden closeness, but Fred’s grip was steady, his steps smooth and sure.

“You’re not bad at this,” you teased, looking up at him.

He smirked. “Told you. Miles better than Georgie.”

That made you laugh, and the sound seemed to light up his whole face. The tension from earlier melted away, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the music or the rain.

The world around you blurred, the rain and the music creating a cocoon of quiet intimacy. Fred twirled you unexpectedly, making you gasp before pulling you back against him, his grin wide and mischievous.

“Show-off,” you said breathlessly.

“Only for you,” he replied, his voice softer now, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere.

You looked up at him, rainwater dripping from your hair, and for a moment, you forgot about the ball, about Angelina, about anything else. It was just Fred—Fred with his warm eyes, his heartfelt grin, and his hands that held you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“Fred…” you started, unsure of what you wanted to say.

But he stopped swaying, his hand gently brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured. “It’s always been you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, his words sinking in like the rain soaking through your clothes. “Fred, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I just…I needed you to know.”

For a moment, you stood there, staring at him, the music from the hall swelling in the background. Then, without thinking, you leaned up on your toes, closing the space between you.

The kiss was soft and slow, rain falling around you as if the world had stopped for just the two of you. Fred’s hand cupped your face gently, the other still resting on your waist, pulling you closer. When you finally pulled back, he was grinning, his forehead resting against yours.

“So, how’s this for a Yule Ball memory?” he asked, his voice warm and teasing.

You laughed, your cheeks flushing despite the cold. “It’s perfect.”

“Good,” he said, spinning you one last time before pulling you back into his arms. “Because I don’t think I’m letting you go anytime soon.”

And as the rain continued to fall and the music from the Great Hall drifted through the night, you realised that, for once, you didn’t mind getting soaked.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Ink Master

Player 001 x reader [SMUT]

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Note: pretend you have tattoos, sick ones, whatever your heart desires. I’m heavily tattoos and wanna give love to my tattooed and wanting to be tattooed girlies. In this, i am describing a few of the tattoos I have, yes each one has a real meaning behind it. If so desired, I can explain the meaning behind each one.

You sat down with your friends eating dinner, laughing, and talking. The day seemed to have never happened, even Gi Hun and Young il were laughing so hard they were crying. You got a sudden heat flash. You ruled out the possibility of a cold as you had immediately. You stood to take your jacket off. Pulling the sleeves down one by one revealing tattoo filled arms. Young il looked you up and down before looking away quickly. A smile crept onto his face as butterflies erupted from his stomach.

“Wow, (y/n)” Dae ho exclaimed. “Your tattoos look so cool! I love that on your arm. Oh oh, and that steers head.”

“Thank you!” You beamed looking at the artwork that covered your skin. “I’ve been getting tattooed since i was 15 I’m 24 now, so about 9 years of work” you laugh, feeling the nostalgia of the tattoos.

“Do you have more?” Young il asks politely.

“I have a lot more, my back is done, rib cage, all the way up to my collar bone” you pulled your shirt collar down slightly to reveal bats that lined your collarbone, a betta fish on the left side.

“Wow, did they hurt?” Young il asks. “I mean, obviously they hurt, but you know, which one hurt the most?” he asks hating himself for how stupid he sounded.

“The one i have above my uhh lady part.” You giggled awkwardly. “That one was not comfortable at all, and i have both nipples pierced.” You admitted.

“You heard the signal for bed time. You retreated to your bed smiling at Young il as he lays in his bed next to yours. He wanted to see all of them, maybe hear a story or two, find out what they mean. Each and every one of them, no matter how bad the story may be.

He lays awake, he turned to you as he heard you rise up from your bed.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, i just have to pee really bad.”

“Yeah, so do I, mind if we walk together?” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t be too weird.

“Yeah of course, maybe if there are two of us they’ll let us in” you smile gently, taking his hand in yours, pulling you towards the door. You knocked softly the pink guy opened the window. “I need to use the restroom, and so does he.” You moved aside so they could see Young il, he smiled bashfully. The door opened immediately, allowing the two of you to leave the room. You walked towards the ladies room before you soon felt yourself get pulled into the men’s.

“Young il? What’re you doing?”

“I know this sounds really stupid, but can i see the rest of your tattoos?” He asked. You nodded and pulled him into a stall. He gently pulled your shirt up, then your sports bra, revealing tattoos all down your sternum and stomach, right rib cage covered with sharks, left side presented numerous scriptures.

You felt Young il's hands grasping your waist, pulling you closer to him as you stood in the bathroom stall, the need to get back to the room before other noticed you were gone for too long creating a sense of urgency. His eyes were fixed on your skin, ignoring everything, roaming over the intricate tattoos that covered your body. You could sense his obsession, his fascination with the artwork that adorned your body.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "These tattoos... they're a part of you, aren't they?" His voice was laced with an unspoken question, as if he was trying to understand the story behind each design.

You nodded, feeling his fingers tracing the lines of a snake coiled around your right arm. "Each one has a story," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "A piece of me, etched into my skin forever." He turned you again, this time facing away from him. His hands roamed over the Japanese waves on your back and hips before moving lower to grip your ass cheeks firmly but gently.

Young il's lips brushed against the cherry blossom tree on your shoulder. He kissed each petal gently, reverently, as if worshiping the art itself. His hands slid down your back, following the curve of a dragon's tail that wrapped around your spine. Every touch sent shivers down your spine. He touched the angel on your right shoulder blade, following the angels hand as it reached for a skeleton that stood by the open mouth of the dragon, begging to be saved silently. He stared in awe at the scene before him.

"I want to explore every inch of you," he panted, turning you back around, his mouth moving to yours in a fierce kiss. You felt him harden against you, his desire fueled by his fixation on your tattoos.

As you broke apart for air, Young il gazed at the animal on your chest. "Tell me about this one," he asked, tracing the lions head with his finger. Before pulling your pants down to your ankles.

You smiled mischievously. "That one's for protection," you replied. "A fierce protector against those who would try to hurt me."

Young il's eyes flashed with intensity. "You don't need protection from me," he growled. "I'll never hurt you.”

His words ignited a fire within you, seemingly healing all the broken ends of you. You wrapped your arms around his his neck, drawing him closer as you as he moved to position you better on the stall door.. Young il continued to map out your tattoos with his fingers and lips.

Every touch was like a spark to dry kindling – it set you ablaze. The way he held onto them indicated how much control and trust had grown between the both of you in just moments.

As one hand still gripped, he entered slowly then harder deepening himself, stroking all areas sending moans escaping past your parted lips

"You feel so good," you gasped quietly in his ear.

"Your tattoos are driving me crazy," Young il replied hoarsely . He thrust deeper, trying feel you all over his body. He wished he could explain this feeling you were giving him. He was so clouded by lust, he was pretty sure he was in love with you.

Suddenly, as your muscles clenched wrapping tightly around him, it triggered something fierce within young il's thrust became faster pushing the both of you toward intense explosive peak which shredded apart any lingering rational thought leaving primal instinct only.

In that moment, all there existed were two people trying desperately not be left behind when the other reaches their climax first .

"Cum on me" you begged . No answer - only labored breathing intensifying into frantic almost sobbing sighs pushing desperately your shared goal, your final release.

And then youngil mouth came crashing onto the nape of your neck begging:

"Cum… cum on my cock please, let me drain you until you’re empty so you can do the same to me, please, (y/n)" he pleaded breathlessly.

His begging for your release was what made any remaining composure disintegrate, sending a shattering explosion through both of you, immense pleasure flowing through your veins as your body nearly crumbled from your orgasm.

His lingering moans and your whimpers as you both came from your highs.

“Young il, if i knew all i had to do was show you my tattoos to get you like this, id have done it way sooner.” You give a dry laugh.

“No, this was bound to happen anyways, you just gave me a reason to do it sooner.” He responded. He began to clean you up, then himself. He picked your shirt off of the floor along with your sports bra. You pulled up your pants, accepting the shirt and bra once you were upright.

“Let’s do this again sometime?” You ask.

“Oh definitely. Your pussy is to die for, literally. I’d die over it.” He said.

“I’d die for you” you counter romantically. “Sorry, i dont know wh-“

“(Y/n), if only you knew the things id do for you that are far worse than death itself.” He said before kissing you. When you got back into the room you got into your bed. Young il coming in behind you.

“Young il, what are you doing?” You ask, confused as to why he was in your bed.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t cuddle you after sex” he said pulling you into him. You smile softly, suddenly falling asleep. “good night, (y/n)” he kissed your lips softly. He was now sure he might genuinely love you, but he still wasn’t sure if lust was still clouding his sight that made him feel that way. He felt something inside him, but it was yet to be discovered. It was yet to be assessed, maybe as he slept, maybe during the next day, maybe if you were walking down the aisle to marry him, maybe when you were pregnant and birthing your children. Would they want to be tattooed like their mother? He didn’t mind that, he’d be proud of them, the same way he’s proud of you. He loved you.

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Hi! Can I request a First Aid x sick (like the flu) human reader please? Thank you :D

I wish I had First Aid when I was sick. Have some light fluff~

Coughing, sneezing, groaning. None of it bothered the medic. First Aid had seen many things, fascinating and disgusting from his own kind. Many Cybertronians were disgusted by human bodily functions. Not him. He took every blow of your nose with grace, ensuring you had plenty of tissues near by. And a puke bucket. After that last little incident, he wanted to be sure.

"How is my patient today?" First Aid brings in your breakfast. Plain foods, like Ratchet recommended. The older Mech had been to earth and thus had some information.

You take one look at the food and turn over with a groan. First Aid vents.

"Come on, I need you to eat. You couldn't keep it down last night and need to stay fueled to get better." He sets the tray beside your human sized berth and leans close, nudging you. "Come on. I'll adjust the bed." The shifts it carefully to put you in a sitting position. He wouldn't lie to himself, you looked awful. Tired and exhausted. A little pale. He would have the drones help you with your hair later.

"Y/n," A digit presses to your forehead, taking your temp. Still pretty high, but better than yesterday, "Please eat, you can't take your medicine on an empty stomach.

"I'm cold." you mumble, shifting as he put an extra pillow behind you.

"I can adjust the heat of the berth for you. We don't have many blankets on board." He made a mental note to request a few things next time the ship stops planet-side.

"Thanks." You start eating, tiny little bites. First Aid stays near by, writing into his data pad. Leaned against the main berth yours is placed on. Like a Doll on a bed. "I'm bored."

The red and white Bot glances down, "Yeah, healing can be pretty boring." You give him the most pathetic expression he had ever seen. Poor thing, "Tell you what-" Metal digit scoots the bowl you pushed away a bit closer to you, "-finish up, take your meds, and I'll set up a data pad with some holo-vids. Deal?"

You groan and sigh, giving him another look. He taps the top of your head, "And drink your water too. You REALLY need that." Ratchet had made it very clear how much humans needed water, especially when sick.

A sigh, and you pick up your utensils. First Aid's mask shifts as he smiles, sending a request to rewind for something to entertain you.

"I'll be back to check on you. The drone will bring your meds when you're done." He pats your head and heads off to disinfect before checking his other patients. He had to seal with a broken digit, a missing arm, and Whirl barreling in with a pipe through his socket. How the frag he got to the med bay without a guide, he couldn't say, but First Aid would bet they could follow a trail of chaos to the origin.

Half a cycle passes before the Medic can check on you. It's calm, so he figures he can sit and talk with you for the rest of his shift. Ease some of the boredom. He grabs your chart, looking it over while he heads your way. Drones had checked your vitals through the day and he compared them to Ratchet's list of acceptable numbers.

"Well Y/n, it looks like-" He stops at the sight of you. On your tiny berth, was a pile of blankets. He almost panics before realizing the rhythmic, barely perceptible movement. First Aid steps closer, carefully, nudging and moving the blankets until he can see your face. Sleeping peacefully. His spark pulses at the sight. You still looked drained and sick, but peaceful. A murmur and you grab blinding for the blanket to recover yourself. Instead your hand lands on his digit and stays put.

Ambulon comes in to relieve his fellow Medic a mega cycle later, but First Aid remains where he is a little while longer, with you holding onto him.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Barong - Day 25

Race: Avatar

Alignment: Light-Neutral

April 24th, 2024

I'd like to start this daily demon spotlight with an admittance of bias. Barong is my favorite demon in the series, bar none. In celebration of making it to 25 (!!) days of this series, I've decided to let the holy cat out of the bag. Barong is the demon that introduced me to Balinese mythology, has saved my hide several times throughout the series, and has an adorable and unique design to boot. He stands right next to, if not above Black Frost and Chernobog in my book. Past that, though, I would also like to say- thank you all for sticking with me for 25 days! It's been so damn fun, and I plan on continuing this series for months, if not years to come. I know it's a little early for the ivories, but the small community that has been built up over time has given me so much life and energy!

With that sappy stuff out of the way...

Today's demon of the day lies in the form of the great panther, protector of mankind, and host of all things good, Barong. Bali mythology is surprisingly easy to look through, having solid roots and foundations, as well as its origin being in a somewhat small subset of Indonesia, though this isn't to say it's not complex. Balinese mythology takes a unique form, one similar to the worship of Ame-no-Uzume, wherein several of its stories aren't plays nor grand tales, but rather, fascinatingly hypnotic dances. Barong's appearance in these dances is that of a glamorously decorated (and very ambiguous) animal that I would personally say looks somewhat, vaguely similar to a lion?

However, the type of animal it is isn't that important, and admittedly just makes me confused. What is important is Barong's role in Balinese mythology, that being of a protector of humanity itself- in the mythos surrounding Barong and its eternal rival Rangda, Barong represents good health, good fortune, and has reign over all the spirits that inhabit the small province. The most prominent myth featuring the great avatar is recanted in the famous Kris dance, a dance representing Barong battling with Rangda. During the hypnotic trawl, dancers bring swords dangerously close to hurting themselves, though they emerge unscathed, watched over by two dancers in an ornate harness holding up the avatar of Barong who dances furiously behind them.

The dance begins with two monkeys and Barong engaging in dance, though quickly escalates as witches sent by Rangda attack the frolicking group. The dance-drama escalates from there as Barong tries to reign back control over the kingdom, which had found itself under siege by Rangda, eventually leading to the most iconic scene of the play, wherein two palace guards stab themselves with kali daggers in a desperate trance under Rangda's control- though they emerge unscathed as Barong comes to the rescue and engages in battle with the witch, protecting the guards with his holy magic. After a long and fraught dance between Barong and its rival, eventually, the holy avatar emerges victorious, and the kingdom is returned to peace and prosperity.

Barong is not just an artefact of the dance, though- he's an important figure in Balinese tradition, one held in reverence and good spirits, and the dance is simply held to represent the eternal struggle between good and evil, as well as celebrate the triumph of the love and goodness that Barong represents. People equipped in Barong costumes even, on occasion, parade around Balinese towns in order to ward off evil spirits and bad luck. Barong is locked in a never-ending battle against Rangda and the forces of darkness, yet never gives up hope; As a Bali volunteer in the Bali Volunteer Program puts it, "Once the trance is over, Barong and his supporters finally overthrow Rangda. But she does not die. Instead, she reincarnates and Barong must defeat her again. The fight never stops. It is symbolic of light’s eternal strife against darkness."

In the SMT series, Barong is depicted faithfully, though far more blue than red. Decorated in jewels and studded in silver, the Balinese lion dances in combat, easily connecting to the dance-dramas the beast is so frequently depicted in. Interestingly, a common series staple is that of Rangda and Barong's fusion leading to Shiva, and while unconfirmed, I have an idea as to why this may be the case. While Barong and Rangda are from completely different mythologies, they both represent opposing forces of light and dark, something that Shiva, a god of destruction who is not evil, is an inherent blend of- Shiva is both light and dark, good and evil, while Barong is good, light, and Rangda is evil, dark.

All in all, Balinese myth's hypnotic dances and beautiful performances lend to an amazingly designed demon that truly fulfills all it sets out to do, represents an underrepresented mythology, and stands out as my personal favorite demon in the series. Next to Chernobog and Black Frost, of course. And also Parvati. And Mother Harlot. Am I just edgy?

[wisteriasymphony]

every time a tumblr post mlb rewrite mentions the fact that they're taking out marinette's 'obsessive stalker' characteristics an angel gets run over by a steamroller and fucking dies

[beauregardlionett]

the progression of ashton convincing manipulating fearne into agreeing to let him take on the fire shard, kissing her right before she gives him the fire shard, essentially dying almost ten times in the span of a minute while fearne and f.c.g. dump healing magic into him to keep him alive, ashton exploding at one point saved only by a ring that was not meant for him initially, and then finally stabilizing after losing an arm, an ear, and a chunk of his shoulder...i don't think a kick to the head is enough

[thefirstknife]

So I’m listening to a Destiny lore podcast (Destiny 2 - Myths and Ztories) and they’re talking about Cayde-6, his whole life up until his death. They read a lore card from Book: Ghost Stories called A Hero’s Requiem, which is the story of how Cayde was Risen.

I thought I had misheard the podcasters, but Cayde says:

“My brain works, but I don't remember a thing 'cept that I seem to be a functioning life form—I'm human, I'm a man.”

And I’m a bit confused by that. Was Cayde not Risen as an Exo? Or is this just Cayde being Cayde?

He was Risen as an Exo, yes! Cayde was turned into an Exo in the Golden Age, after being basically coerced into it by owing a debt to Clovis. He went through his resets and eventually died as Cayde-6 which is what he was rezed at. It appears he died during the Collapse and had fragmented memories of it happening.

The thing is that Exos are human. An Exo should feel and think of themselves as human; it was a huge part of how they were made. An Exo is a human mind uploaded into a robot body. At first, Clovis wanted to make Exos as far removed from humanity as possible so he didn't make them capable of "humanisms": original Exos didn't breathe or eat or do anything human. Clovis wanted them to be perfect, better than human.

But the problem was that they were still human minds in a robot body and those human minds could not handle having a body that doesn't breathe or eat. They started suffering severe consequences where they would become convinced that they have died. Clovis' logbook details the process of this in the section "-045- Note on D.E.R." Warning for some gruesome medical descriptions. The term "Cotard delusion" mentioned here is a real phenomenon btw (again, warning for medical stuff that might be upsetting).

DER is Dissociative Exomind Rejection. It's a condition that Exos go through where their mind rejects their body and they essentially go mad. It's most easily explained in this old Ghost scan from Mars from back in Warmind; it's explained in a way that isn't gruesome like in Clovis' log. Here it is from him with some extra details. Basically, this is the crux of the problem. The Exos have to feel human and have to be able to do human actions in order to survive.

It was obvious to them that the root of the problem lay in the deficient exobodies I had supplied. Deficient how, I demanded to know. They did not suffer human weakness. They never needed to eat, drink, breathe, sleep, micturate, or dream. Apparently, this was the problem. I had assumed that the need for these irritations would pass since there would be no shortage or accumulation of poisons to trigger them. But evolution's tangled ways cannot be so easily rationalized. I was wrong. Their brains concluded that all of their internal processes failed. No digestion, no breath, no heartbeat, no sense of interoceptive health... all signs of death.

Both of these also mention how resets help to stave off the DER. It's something that helps them acclimate to a new body (this is why they're reset upon upload and why they have no memories of who they were), but also it turned out to be convenient for Clovis so he didn't have to bother helping them in other ways as well as to be able to hide information from them. You can see how this is explained for the public in that scan. Meanwhile here's how Clovis talks about it:

I am much more interested in the surprising success of memory wipes. I became so tired of answering the questions asked by new exos—what had happened to the scanning clinic, how long had it been, would I let them see their families—that I began inducing retrograde amnesia before spin-up. Interestingly, this seems to have improved their resilience against exomind rejection! I theorize the lack of any episodic memories eases the transition into the new body. And the loss of emotional ties prevents grief and stress, which could interfere with healthy function.

Specifically, how he was tired of them asking questions and how the reset basically allows them to circumvent actually providing psychiatric help to people. If they suffer some trauma, you can just reset them to erase it. Cayde is actually a really good case study for all of these issues as he suffered with adjustment to the Exo body and struggled with memories. He had frequent flashbacks to random events from his previous resets and fragmented memories which he tried really hard to put into some logical sense and ended up pretty much inventing a possible life he had. When he talks about his "wife and son," these are fabrications constructed from his fragmented memories of unrelated events. He constructed them in order to feel more human.

The kid. The woman. I do not know them. They are not real. But I wish I did. And I wish they were. They're just the two best cards I could find to keep up my sleeve when the odds were stacked against me. I made them real in my mind and in my heart. I fell in love with the idea of them, and I crafted a truth that allowed me to feel.

So yeah! The way he reacts to being rezed and thinks of himself as "human" is because he is. He had to be, in order to be a successful Exo upload, otherwise he would've just torn himself apart eventually. Exos have to feel human and act human and think of themselves as human. They're still Exo and have clear differences, but at the end of the day, they're humans. It depends on the individual if they would align more with being human or being an Exo; in Cayde's case, he would definitely lean more to seeing himself as primarily human. He was not a fan of the whole Exo thing and had some insight into all the atrocities done by Clovis in order to create the Exos. He was also famously terrified of going through another reset.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Guys if you see something you don't like, if there are dark themes or ideas that I've talked about, or fics that deal with subject matter that you don't like, then please do what's best for you and your mental health and just unfollow and block me. No one has to agree with my ideas or like my content, but I also don't need messages or comments about why you dislike it. I'm making my content for me and sharing it on a platform so it can find the people who do like it. If it's not for you, then it is 100% okay for you to not like it and make sure you don't have to see my stuff again!

But if you go out of your way to message me or send me replies that talk about how you don't like it, then I will block you because I don't want that negativity in my space either.

[hobsyllwin]

So crazy and insane and evil that the most uniquely delicious gummy candy ever is something I can only find at mexican party stores on an unreliable basis

you do not understand. The flavor. They don't really actually taste like citrus? They don't even taste like any other gummy I've ever had. The taste almost reminds me of... jello somehow? Or those weirdly delicious vitamin gummies? Fuck. They're fucking good. And I can't find that taste anywhere else. idk what they're even called past "orange slice gummies". No they taste nothing like these

these make my mouth sting and stick to my teeth and very heavily taste like oranges. completely different candy. a false god. do u get me

[sysig]

idontwannabeyouanymore (Patreon)

[brupara]

While watching Night Mind's Gilbert Garfield VOD I felt the need to put a less disturbing Garf into the world. Y'know. Balance things out.

[summikomi]

"four arms and two faces, and this is what you're fascinated by?" sukuna said, watching with feigned disinterest as you poked at the mouth on his stomach.

"you've gotta admit it's really weird. and i'm fascinated by plenty of things about you, believe me. you have no idea how terrifying it was when you pulled out two dicks instead of one." you responded drily, a finger pulling at the crease of the lips, showing the pristine teeth inside.

"does it have a mind of its own or do you control it? is it a subconscious thing?" you asked before he could reply to your dry wit, genuinely curious.

"i don't know, why don't you stick your hand in there so we can find out?" he responded, showing the fangs of his top mouth in a growl.

"you're gonna try to eat my fingers again. does it lead to your normal stomach or is it a different thing? can you even eat with it? can you swallow?"

"i didn't know when you asked for my time i would be teaching an anatomy lesson. again, give it a try, let's see what happens."

"you should be studied in a lab, seriously."

before he could protest to the (frankly, offensive) statement, you shifted a little closer, and with one hand pressed to his navel, placed a gentle kiss on the lips on his tummy.

"what." he hissed, but you didn't offer an answer and instead moved up on your perch above him so you could cuddle up to his chest instead.

"you're so interesting, kuna."

"you are arguably stranger." his voice seemed strained, but you knew well that was just his own stilted reaction to being flustered.

with a contented sigh you snuggled closer to his rapidly beating heart, deciding to give him the mercy of not having to hide his blushing face.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

whatever you want

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, ab riding, tit fucking, semi public sex, established relationship, cumming in mouth, mentions of future and past sex, lots of talk about rafes muscles, reader is kinda described as having big (or at least decent sized) breasts, lots of banter can these bitches just shut up and fuck oh my goddddd

“again.” you call, almost sounding drunk despite being completely sober.

rafe sighs, rolling his eyes, but the side of his lip quirks up, unable to hide how much he likes your fascination.

rafe flexes again, his arms bulging and pecs tightening. you reach out, smoothing your hands over the hard muscles.

“you're so strong.” you coo, sat on rafes lap despite the hot temperature of the day, which resulted in rafe pulling his shirt off.

"you're acting like you've never seen me shirtless before.” rafe says with a chuckle.

“shh, let me appreciate you.” you shake your head. sure, you've seen him shirtless plenty of times but rafe was bulking up for summer and it caused all his muscles to be deliciously defined.

“alright, whatever.” rafe flexes again, not going to argue too much when he has your hands obsessively touching every part of his body.

your hands move down to his stomach, fingers running over his abs. “if you let me ride your abs, i’d let you do whatever you want to me.”

“you-” rafe places his hands on his hips, sitting up straighter. “you want to ride my abs?”

“yeah.” you nod, quirking your head to the side. “you know, like rub my pussy against them.”

“shit, do it right now.” rafe looks down at your short shorts, barely covering more than your underwear does.

“yes!” you squeal out, hopping up and tugging your bottoms and panties off, not caring that you’re in the backyard and anyone could theoretically come by. “lay back.” you instruct.

rafe lays on the couch, smiling up at you as you climb on top of him. “you’ll have to flex for me as im doing this.” you inform rafe, placing your pussy on his abdomen. “especially your pecs.” you poke his chest.

“you’re such a slut for my body.” rafe chuckles, hands coming to your hips, pushing you further down, feeling your wetness as your thighs spread even more open.

“i can’t help that you’re so sexy.” you shrug, hips starting to move back and forth in a slow rock, carefully building up the pace, wanting to enjoy being sat on his stomach.

you lean forward, placing your hands on his chest for stability, pressing your clit further against his muscles. rafe flexes his muscles and they harden underneath you.

“rafe!” you squeal. 

“i guess you like that, huh?” rafes hands squeeze at your hips and lift up, placing you harder back down on his stomach. “oh, you like that too.” he smiles as he bounces you again and you moan out.

“i really like that.” you hum, eyes struggling to stay open with the pleasure, but you want to keep your eyes on rafe beneath you. its rare he lets you take over like this.

you moan as you both bounce, using your knees to go up and down while rafe assists so you don’t get burnt out. 

you pull your top off, revealing the bikini top you’re wearing underneath, ready to go swimming whenever you’re done playing with rafe, needing to get in the water on this sweltering day.

“jesus, your tits are perfect.” rafe smiles as he watches your chest bouncing, sitting up to rub his face in between your pushed together breasts, the bikini top holding them tight together.

“not as perfect as yours.” you giggle, hands squeezing at his chest, palms over his nipples.

“don’t call them tits.” rafe rolls his eyes as he lays back, head against the cushion.

“well, whatever you wanna call them, i fucking love your muscles. your pecs-” you squeeze your hands again, digging into his soft flesh until rafe flexes and they harden. “your biceps-” you move your hands, and rafe flexes again, his muscles bulging. “your abs.” this time you press your pussy down, rubbing against the contours and ridges.

“you’re lucky that you offered to let me do whatever i want to you otherwise i wouldn’t have agreed to this.” rafe smirks.

“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. “what are you gonna do to me?” there’s truly nothing rafe could do to your body that wouldn’t bring you pleasure, you glow just under his attention alone.

“fuck your tits.” rafe smirks, eyes moving down from your face to your chest. “as soon as your done, right here for anyone to see.”

“damn, you could do anything and you don’t want to fuck my asshole or tie me up?” you laugh, expecting something more from rafe.

“you’d let me do all that whenever anyways.” rafe pushes your hips down, grinding you against him. you moan and lean forward, your hands coming back to rafes chest. 

“keep doing that.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as your mouth drops open, moans filling the air and being carried away by the wind. 

rafe keeps moving, the veins in his forearm flexing as your wetness spreads over his abs, coating them in your slick, allowing your pussy to drag even easier.

“im-im close.” you warn, swallowing thickly.

rafe grunts and increases his hold, tightening his grip on your hips so you can’t slip loose, grinding you down as he flexes his abs, the hardness rubbing against your clit making you moan out, body falling forward as you cum hard, shaking as rafe lets up on you, hands loosening and moving to rub your back.

“fuck.” you whine, snuggling into his chest, letting your hips drop down, feeling rafes hardness pressing against your stomach.

rafe starts to move as you cry out, not ready to do anything more than close your eyes and feel his warmth against your cheek.

“come on, brat.” rafe chuckles. “i wanna fuck your tits while you’re all spaced out from your orgasm. you know i love you like this.” 

you hum a sound thats close enough to agreement that rafe flips you so you’re underneath him, laying on your back on the couch as he stands.

“you’re so gorgeous like this.” rafe says as he undoes his belt buckle, then pushing his pants and underwear down, his hard cock popping up.

“wanna taste.” you whine, eyes still droopy.

“nope.” rafe shakes his head. “we made a deal. i know you like to taste me, but im fucking your tits. take your top off.”

rafe pulls at the strings of your bikini, flinging it away to reveal your pink nipples to the sunlight.

“fine, but will you at least cum a little in my mouth?” you pout as rafe kneels on either side of you, glad that the outdoor couch is big enough for all of these activities.

“sure, baby.” rafe chuckles, just another way of showing how desperate you are for him.

rafes hands land on your tits, palms rubbing on your nipples, feeling them harden against his palms, not unlike when he was flexing his muscles for you earlier.

rafes hands move to the sides of your breasts, pushing them together. “god, you look so fuckable right now.”

“yeah? gonna fuck me later then? maybe out on the boat hm? after you’re done with my tits?”

“the boat, the bed, the counter, the shower, im gonna have you everywhere.” rafe bends down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you smile up at him, a lazy, tired smile. rafe angles his hips down, the head of his cock pushing against the underside of your tits before slipping in between them.

“oh!” your eyebrows raise, surprised at the unusual feeling, but certainly not disliking it as he begins to move back and forth.

“shit.” rafe grunts. “fuck.”

you swat rafes hands away, pressing your tits together for him. rafe leans forward, hands landing on either side of your neck, his face contorted in pleasure directly over yours.

you look down, eyes watching the head of rafes cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.

“this is- this is fucking good.” rafe grunts, moving faster. “im- im not gonna last very long.”

you stick your tongue out, rafes cock just long enough to hit it with the tip of his cock as he thrusts. you relish the taste, pulling your tongue back into your mouth every couple thrusts to spread the taste.

“thats it, baby.” rafe moans, one hand moving to your mouth, two fingers pulling at the side of your lip, spreading your mouth wider.

you moan out, tongue open and ready for his cum. rafe fucks forward as fast as he can, just like he does your pussy when you spread your legs wide for him.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say as he surges forward, burying his cock in your mouth as his hand wraps around his length, stroking up and down as he reaches his high, cum spurting into your mouth as you happily swallow.

rafe moans slowly die out and become quieter until hes pulling out of your mouth. “get up my legs are about to give out.” he says quickly, and you barely slide off the couch before he collapses.

you giggle and climb on top of him, pressing kisses to his cheek as his chest heaves up and down.

“im guessing you liked that.” you rub your thumb over his bottom lip.

“yeah.” rafe smiles, his eyes sliding shut.

“so, boat ride now?”

“jesus, woman give me a second.” rafe laughs, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

[gorgynei]

fascinating parts from this brennan interview about downfall

downfall was recorded in one week and brennan described it as "one of the most intense roleplaying experiences [he's] ever had"

if avalir was showcasing the age of arcanum, downfall will showcase the actual calamity

even though avalir and aeor seem similar on paper, brennan says the stories could NOT be more different. the themes, player motivations/briefings, and genres are completely unique

downfall embraces the nuance and complexity (moral and otherwise) of the gods and digs into the idea that the gods "called a truce" to fell aeor and what that actually means

brennan says aeor actually has a large population of refugees from the calamity by the time downfall takes place. however, they didnt have a large impact on the city's architecture and so by the modern era their cultures and presence in aeor (and wider exandria) have been almost entirely lost

overall downfall seems to focus on the ways that small errors in history can change a lot

brennan describes his experience with dm'ing in exandria as "going into a sandbox and creating the toys you're gonna to play with there"

the population of aeor is "demographically meaningfully different from who was living in aeor at the height of the age of arcanum," according to brennan. basically, not every aeorian will have bolo's accent (sad)

aeormatons will be in downfall in some way

setting, plot, and character backstories were worked on in tandem

on a scale of 1 to 10 in terms of tragedy, brennan said downfall would need an entirely new axis. there is a "different kind of horror" in downfall, something that is distinct from "xenomorph chasing you horror"

brennan said "there are moments in downfall where i could feel my stomach wanting to drop out of my body"