#how do you manage to convince yourself that this is acceptable behavior

[fluffylandshark]

These AI tech-bros really have no shame, do they?

Dear artists

To prevent something from this impacting you and your work...

...add this nice paragraph to your commission TOS.

Standard fee in my case goes from CHF 900.- to CHF 15'000.-. We ARE talking exclusive rights here. Those don't come cheap~. *uwu*

[girlrotterr]

HEADLINES☆

Bodyguard!ellie x Model!reader  Summary: After gaining more popularity in the public eye, your manager decided to hire you a bodyguard. Usually, you wouldn’t care, but this particular bodyguard, Ellie, is a cold and stubborn one, always controlling your decisions. Tonight, a big party is being thrown, but knowing Ellie, she won’t let you go. You can persuade her...right? a/n: hello angelss!! I wanted to try something different for this fic! lmk what you angels think! Had sm fun with this one <3 (especially with the dynamic!)

You sighed, frustrated with Ellie's determination. It wasn't the first time you had tried to convince her to let you attend social events. Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms.

"Ellie, come onn! I get it, you're here to protect me, but I can take care of myself too. This party is crucial for my image, and you know how important that is in my line of work," you argued, attempting to convince her. 

She narrowed her eyes, "Your image won't matter if something happens to you. You can't trust those people, and I won't let you jeopardize your safety just for the sake of appearances."

You tried a different tactic, softening your tone. "Look, I appreciate what you do, I really do!. But I need to live a little, experience things.! Besides, it's not healthy to be cooped up all the time. Let me go, Ellie, just this once!” 

Her expression remained serious, and she shook her head. "No, it's not happening. I've seen how these events turn out, and I won't let you become another headline. My responsibility is to protect you, even from yourself."

You threw your hands up in frustration. "I'm not a child. I can make my own decisions, even if they turn out mistakes."

She stayed silent for a moment, her gaze intense. "I can't let you take unnecessary risks. It's my job to keep you safe, and I won't compromise on that."

"But I got all dolled up!" you say, gesturing towards your outfit.

A smirk crept onto Ellie's face as she looked you up and down. She admired the effort you had put into your appearance, her gaze lingering for a moment. 

You had come to know Ellie's strict professionalism quite well, but there was another side to her that occasionally surfaced — a genuine appreciation for your presence. You had caught her stealing glances, subtly tracing the lines of your figure. She silently acknowledged the aura you radiated. 

When she got lost in those moments, captivated by you, it didn't escape your notice. You had become a distraction from her duties, something that seemed to drive her fucking crazy. The protector allowing herself a vulnerable moment, drawn in by you.

"Hmm... Well, I might allow it," she finally accepted, a hint of amusement in her voice, "Only if you behave well."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine, fine. I'll be on my best behavior, I promise!”

Ellie maintained her composed demeanor, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Don't make me regret this. I'll be watching, and if anything seems off, you're out of there."

You nodded, pleased with the compromise. "Deal!"

Heading towards the door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. Stepping out of the house, ellie followed closely, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a hint of nervousness, ensuring your safety remained her top priority.

fuck. The sight of Ellie in her sleek suit sent shivers down your spine, it always gave her a menacing look. 

"Hey~, with that black suit, you look like my date," you said cheekily, a playful glint in your eyes as you teased her. You loved getting under her skin. 

Ellie looked at you suspiciously, a faint blush tinting her cheeks "I'm not your date," she stated firmly, attempting to brush off your comment.

"Aww man," you exclaimed, unable to contain your giggles at her seriousness.

She rolled her eyes, hiding a hint of happiness behind her sternness. "Keep acting like that, and I'll forget the deal," she replied, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. It was her turn to be the tease now.

"Harsh!" you exclaimed, grinning as you playfully moved closer to her. 

"You're such a brat, you know that?" she said with a playful smirk.

You gasped, exaggerating your shock. "Am not!"

"Then stop acting like one," she shot back, her eyes scanning your body.

You grinned, playfully striding towards your baby pink beetle. "Not until you drop the bossy act."

Opening the car door, you hopped inside. The seats plush and adorned with soft pink cushions, the air filled with the sweet scent of strawberries.

You started the car and began driving, the engine humming as the vehicle glided through the streets. Ellie stared out the window, lost in her thoughts and taking in the passing neighborhood. The quietness of the car started feeling a bit awkward.

Sensing the silence, you reached into your purse, rummaging around until you found your favorite CD. With a grin, you popped it into the player, and your favorite song immediately filled the car with noise.

"AHH!! LOVEE THIS SONG!!" you shrieked and laughed with excitement. The energy of the music lifted the mood, filling the car with a sense of liveliness. Ellie couldn't help but crack a small smile, finding your genuine joy contagious. She smirked as she listened to the music, not exactly to her taste but enjoying the rhythm.

You started dancing in your seat, unable to contain your excitement. With a grin, you rolled down the windows, letting the wind whip through the car as you drove a little faster, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

Ellie chuckled at your antics, but her enjoyment turned to mild concern when she noticed the speed increasing.

"C-calm down. There's no need to drive so fast," she warned, her tone laced with caution.

"Ughh!! You’re a buzzkill!" you exclaimed, sticking your head out of the window, the music blaring even louder now, practically vibrating the entire car. 

"Hey! Enough seriously! " Ellie started to protest, but her words were lost in the rush of the wind and the pulsating beat of the music. 

"Ellie! Take the fucking wheel!" you suddenly exclaimed, thrusting your hands out of the window along with your head, bending your body over the window ledge. You were sexy and unstoppable, the wind blowing perfectly against your face and hair.

Ellie, although taken aback, tried not to panic. In a swift move, she grabbed the wheel, taking control of the car and attempting to steer it. The rush of wind and the blaring music was chaotic yet exhilarating. This wasn't an unusual occurrence for her; she was used to your careless and rebellious behavior. However, it always managed to take her by surprise.

You stopped and took the wheel once again, closing the windows and slowing down as Ellie breathed a sigh of relief. "We're here!" you giggled excitedly, undoing your seatbelt and hopping out of the car, with Ellie following behind you.

Approaching the grand mansion, you marveled at its luxury. It stood tall and stunning, illuminated by soft lights against the night sky. Beautiful gardens surrounded it completely.

You walked towards the entrance, excitement building with each step. As you opened the door, you were suddenly greeted by a woman.

"You made it!" she exclaimed.

“I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" you responded.

The lady, still smiling, welcomed you inside with a gesture. “Come on in!” she exclaimed, holding the door open.

As you entered, you turned and waved for Ellie to come along.

Ellie followed behind you. As she looked around, her amazement grew. The party inside was anything but average. The upbeat music filled the air as people danced energetically, drinks flowed freely, and couples were intimately occupied on couches and stairs. She even noticed some people snorting drugs in the bathroom.

Turning towards Ellie, you leaned in and whispered, "Psst, a secret! I didn't even know that lady..."

Ellie laughed softly at your secret. "Really? She seemed to know you, though," she replied.

“I mean, my face is practically everywhere!”

"It must be weird, though. Having people recognizing you and praising you for your beauty. It's quite a big responsibility, isn't it?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Do you sometimes feel overwhelmed by the attention?"

“No, I get the fascination,” you replied, walking over to grab a soda.

"It's pretty funny how unfazed you are," she replied with a smile. “I have to admit, it’s fucking admirable.”

“Aw, don't flirt with me so obviously now,” you teased, grinning as you took a sip of your soda.

Ellie felt her cheeks flush at your remark, catching her off guard. "It's fucking hard not to," she replied, unable to take her gaze away from yours.

“You listen well; you dropped the bossy act,” you teased, playfully bumping your shoulder into hers.

“Fucking try me,” Ellie scoffed, leaning into your ear.

"I'm too busy dancing!" you said, playfully walking away from Ellie.

Approaching a woman who had clearly been checking you out since you entered. With a confident smile, you asked her if she wanted to dance, and she eagerly agreed. Taking her hand, you led her to the dance floor.

As Ellie observed, jealousy played across her face. She had never seen you dance, and she had to admit, she fucking loved it. It was hard for her not to envy the woman dancing with you. Despite being your bodyguard, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away. She wanted to fucking savor it.

The woman continued to get closer to you, too close for Ellie. She felt her anger rise, clenching her fists tightly, nails digging into her palms. She turned her head from side to side, attempting to release the tension building up. Suddenly you pulled the woman in for a kiss, a smile spreading across your face.

Ellie's jaw tightened.

You handed the woman a piece of paper containing your phone number before walking away, heading towards Ellie with exhaustion in your steps.

“Ugh, I need water!!” you exclaimed, your legs giving out from dancing.

"You seem pretty tired," she remarked, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, she's been eyeing me the moment I walked in!” you exclaimed, taking a seat on a nearby stool. “I thought I'd give her a chance, and she did not disappoint.”

"Do you just give anyone a chance when they look at you with desire?" she questioned sternly, her tone cold. The jealousy was consuming her, and she was struggling to keep her emotions in check.

“Why does it matter to you?” you asked, genuinely surprised that she cared.

Ellie had to admit, you were right. She was just your bodyguard; it shouldn’t matter to her.

Suddenly, the woman approached you, handing you a beer. "Sorry for exhausting you, princess," she said, only fueling Ellie's jealousy further.

"Princess...? What the fuck," Ellie replied, her anger building up.

The woman looked at Ellie with confusion and scoffed. "And you are..?"

Ellie felt her stomach sink as she met the woman's gaze with a cold, sharp glare. "I'm her bodyguard," she stated firmly, her tone conveying her authority. "It's my job to make sure nothing happens to her. And from what I've seen, you're getting way too close for my liking."

The woman chuckled arrogantly. "Yeah? Well, I don't give a fuck," she replied, smirking as she put her arm around your shoulder.

Ellie had reached her limit. The audacity of this fucking woman,

"Don’t fucking touch my client," Ellie threatened coldly, maintaining a sharp look.

Unfazed, the woman put her beer down aggressively. "What're you going to do?!?" she challenged, now getting closer to Ellie. She was testing limits and crossing lines, pushing Ellie to the edge.

"Hey! Stop it!" you exclaimed, stepping in between Ellie and the woman. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Causing unnecessary shit."

Bothered, the woman picked up her beer and threw it at you, the liquid soaking your hair and dress. "Fucking bitch.." she muttered angrily, beginning to walk away. 

You stood there, now with beer dripping from you, frustration and disbelief on your face. 

You let out a scoff, your frustration boiling as you lunged at the woman. Your anger fueled your movements as you tackled her to the ground, pinning her beneath you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you unleashed a blow of punches, each blow landing with force on her face. The sound of your fists meeting her bloodied nose, the woman grunting in pain. She had no fucking chance. 

Ellie watched the scene before her, her eyes widening as she witnessed. 

The people at the party even began crowding around, watching and recording with excitement. The situation had spiraled out of control. With the woman's face bloodied and bruised, her right eye swollen shut, you smudged your face with hers, rubbing the beer she had thrown at you onto her face.

“cunt.”  You muttered, finally standing up, your knuckles completely stained in red.

You began walking towards the door, the crowd following right behind you. Ellie, still standing near the door, was fucking stunned. Completely speechless. 

You opened the door and headed towards your car. Fastening your seatbelt, you yelled out the window, "ELLIE, GET THE FUCK IN HERE!!" 

Ellie jolted as she quickly made her way to the car. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment from the crowd's whispers and stares. You swerved, aligning the passenger seat with the main entrance. Lowering the window, it allowed ellie to jump into the seat through it. However, not giving her time to fully get in, you accelerated quickly with half of her body still hanging outside. 

“wait, wait, wait!!” Ellie exclaimed loudly, her eyes shut tight as she desperately gripped onto the seat. “You’re fucking crazy!!” she yelled. 

You were definitely making the headlines again. 

[eunxhan]

❝ A kiss is the beginning of cannibalism. ❞

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ Anon Requested ⨾ hii can u do a ticci toby x cannibalistic gn reader?

Ꮺ Eun Replies ⨾ Greetings! I apologize for the late response as i got more focused on working on my ocs — This is quite short compared to my other works but I do hope you'll like this one! I've searched on how cannibalism works just to make sure.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ Disclaimer — GORE!SUGGESTIVE! I do not condone this kind of behavior in real life situations.

Reader ⨾ CANNIBALISTIC!GN!READER. YOU/YOURS

Words used ⨾ 624 words 3,502 characters

Character ⨾ TOBIAS ERIN ROGERS (Ticci Toby)

Art credit ⨾ @/kousomii on tumblr

Links ⨾ My Navigation

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Toby felt a strange mix of fascination and horror when he first encountered you. You were out, eating the corpse he just sliced up. He couldn't help but wonder how you got into your current situation, what led you to become a cannibal, and how you were able to maintain the facade of being a normal, functioning member of society.

Toby sometimes feels tempted to try what you are eating, but he always stops himself from actually doing so. If you manage to have some influence on him or try to convince him, he'll do so.

So whenever he goes out to do his missions, if you were allowed to he would let you follow him to clean up his mess. If you weren't, he would come back with a bag full of the parts you prefer.

If you happen to have a biting habit, whether biting yourself or someone else. He's be fascinated by it as he also have a biting habit, he doesn't mind you biting him as he doesn't feel that much pain as long as you let him bite also. He just watch you bite him and look at the bite marks, just don't bite him when he's in a sour mood.

If you cook them, Toby is intrigued and impressed by your skills as a cook, especially if you have a talent for preparing human flesh in a way that's palatable and delicious. He enjoys the idea of sharing a meal with you that is both unique and delicious.

He may or may not say some jokes about you being a cannibal. Toby's sexual jokes about you are him comparing your appetite for human flesh to his imagined prowess in bed. He'll make crude remarks, such as "You're tearing through those organs like you'd rip through a woman's panties."

Toby's indifference towards your post-feast appearance is a direct reflection of his own descent into depravity. Once disgusted by the mere thought of cannibalism, leaving him numb to the grotesque reality surrounding him but who knows? He's also a killer.

He knows that he himself isn't much better, for he too has stained his hands with blood and consumed human flesh. His ambivalence towards your plight is a twisted acceptance of their shared fate, a grim acknowledgment that they have both become monsters in their own right.

For Toby, he just eats the people he chops for survival and if you happen to have a different reasoning Toby listens to your dissection of cannibalism with a mix of repulsion, curiosity, and a twisted sense of familiarity. The gruesome details of how your body processes the consumed flesh, the nutritional benefits, and the sensory experiences, all serve as a morbid testament to the transformation you have undergone.

As you delves into the biological aspects of cannibalism, Toby's mind can't help but conjure vivid images of digestion, the human body breaking down its victims in the most base and primal of ways.

With the knowledge of cannibalism fresh in his mind, Toby's approach to his missions takes on a new, more methodical quality. Instead of the wild, frenzied attacks that once characterized his hunts, Toby now dispatches his victims with a chilling efficiency.

With each slash of his blade, Toby is careful to target specific organs, his actions driven by the newfound knowledge of their nutritional value. He takes the time to slice off limbs, and as he does, he can't help but recall yout descriptions of the sensory experiences. A strange, twisted thrill courses through him as he works.

Once he's collected his bounty, Toby methodically collects the parts into one bag, taking care not to mix the organs with the flesh. You'll be eating with no problem in your mind.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ ⨾ I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED.

[ichatake]

Do obito x ninja reader where she has to go on a S rank mission for the first time but he doesn't agree with it, so he tries manipulating her into declining the mission (idk if u accept manipulation in your writing? But if u don't u can just make him try to convince her into not going) but reader doesn't fall for it and still goes to the mission, so he has no choice but to follow her, he knows it's wrong, but quickly discard the thought as he tells himself it's "the only way to make sure she's safe" that's pretty much it you can imagine the rest 😗

Next time

Request are open! Request rules here!

Pairing: Obito Uchiha x reader

Summary: Your loving boyfriend takes matters into his own hands once you receive a dangerous ‘S Rank’ mission all for the sake of protecting you.

Warning: manipulative behavior, Obito is a little toxic here

A/N: thank you for requesting!! I hope you enjoy and I did justice to your amazing idea!

Obito was a man that loved to protect those he loved, and he was known for his protective and loving nature. With that being said, his blood froze in his veins when he looked at the scroll you had tucked under your pillow, hidden from his view. Now, he would be stupid if he believed you just casually placed it there with no intention of hiding it. Of course he knew you were intentionally tucking the scroll away from his grasp, the reason? Well, when he opened the scroll and read its content, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. The first thing to catch his eyes were the words ‘S RANK’ written neatly in black ink. The second thing to catch his attention was the mission contents itself. Hidden sound village? Capture? Rogue ninja? Solo? All these words in one sentence meant horror, and to Obito, this was a death wish. To his wonderful luck, you had just entered the room mentioning something that he didn’t quite catch due to his attention fully focused on the scroll he held in his hands. Now, he hoped you weren’t keeping this a secret from him, even though he knew all too well you were.

“Oh,” you managed to choke out, realizing you had been caught once your eyes fell onto your mission scroll he held so tightly in his arms. You didn’t think he’d find it, but then again, its hiding place wasn’t the best. “Um, that’s just my new mission, the one I mentioned to you a few days ago?” you chuckle nervously, cheeks slightly flushed as you tried to think of a good excuse as to why you were hiding it in the first place.

“Yeah, the ‘A rank mission’ you told me about. You know, the very easy mission that you would be completing alongside other jonin,” his words poured out with sarcasm, making sure to emphasize the word ‘easy’. That’s when you knew this would go exactly where you thought it would. The conversation you dreaded to come had finally arrived, all because you didn’t know how to hide a stupid scroll. You didn’t know where else to put it! He had arrived at your house so unexpectedly that you hid it the first place you could think of. “Obito,” you managed to mumble before he spoke over you.

“Why would you lie to me about this?” His voice sounded genuinely hurt, causing a wave of guilt to pile up in the bottom of your stomach while your lips tried to form a cohesive answer. After a few seconds of contemplation, only a defeated sigh could escape your throat as you gave up on trying to find a suitable excuse. It was better to be truthful than lie to him, that would hurt him more, and you would never do anything to purposely hurt him. “I’m sorry, I thought—maybe if I didn’t tell you about this, you wouldn’t worry,” your brows furrowed as you spoke, but you felt like that wasn’t enough for him. His expression twisted and contorted, trying to find the right emotion. “Well of course I’ll worry. You’ve never been out on an ‘S rank’ mission, and for you to go out all by yourself? It’s dangerous,” his brows pinched just like yours, his hands looking at the damned scroll that wanted you to risk your life.

“I can handle myself, Obito,” your tone switched up immediately, taking his worry in the wrong manner. “You go on ‘S rank’ missions all the time,”

“Because I’ve been a Jonin for quite some time now! And my first ‘S rank’ mission wasn’t by myself, mind you,” he shakes his head in frustration, annoyance starting to boil up in his veins at your stubbornness. Couldn’t you understand he was trying to protect you of all things? “I’m not you, Obito. I wasn’t blessed enough to be on the same team as Kakashi. Of course you’d go on ‘S rank’ missions! You had Minato as your sensei, Kakashi who was already a Jonin, and Rin who was already a great medical nin at sixteen!” Your voice came out raspy, and you didn’t mean to yell. However, he was getting on your nerves rather quickly, considering how he knew you hated when he compared you to other people. You didn’t have to be like other people, and you wished that instead of getting mad or overly worried about your mission, he’d act proud of you! That’s all you were asking for!

“Exactly, I had teammates who would watch my back. You, on the other hand, are going alone. What do you think will happen if you get caught by those rogue ninjas, huh?” He scoffs and throws the scroll to the other side of the room with full force. The loud bang of it hitting the wall surprised you for only a moment, before you were back glaring at your boyfriend. “You think they’ll let you live? You think they’ll let you go, just like that?” His eyes locked with yours and made it almost impossible for you to pull away from his sharp gaze, “What do you think they do to pretty women like you? They take advantage of you in all the ways you can think of, you can’t go alone,”

You weren’t sure if he was trying to inflict fear onto you, but it was slightly working like a charm, because soon you found yourself thinking of all the horrible scenarios that could possibly play out throughout your mission. You dreaded the thought of men taking advantage of you because you had no backup more than what you feared death. But even still, you managed to shake your head and snap out of your thoughts, clearing your head from anything that might divert your attention to what’s really important. That was, your mission. “Like I said, I’m strong, and I know how to handle myself. Obito, you’ve got to understand that no matter what you tell me, I’m going on that mission,” you let another sigh escape past your lips, a hand coming up to rub your temple gently, “I understand you’re worried, but I’m not going to stand here and listen as you try to scare me. You know what the risk of being a shinobi is, and you knew that I went out in the fields when we started dating. The least I want from you is your support,”

You hoped that your words would at least knock some sense into him, but you figured they had the opposite effect when you saw how his lip twitched upwards, a sign that he was once again annoyed with what you were saying, “You’re not understanding,” he raises his arms in frustration as he spoke, “I don’t mind you going out on missions, but this? It’s too risky to go out there on your own! Don’t you see I’m worried about you?” you understood his frustration, but right now, you were too focused on trying to convince him that everything would go okay, “I know what you mean, and I hear you, but it won’t make a difference. I’m sorry Obito, but I’m still going whether you like it or not,” your voice carried authority as you walked towards the other side of the room, grabbing your scroll tightly, “I’m sorry you don’t want me to go, and I assure you I’ll be alright. You have to believe in me. I’m not weak,”

If he was being honest, he felt like he was talking to a wall, and clearly, scaring you wouldn't work. He needed to find a new solution to this problem. He needed to find a solution to your stubbornness. “What if you don’t come back?” he suddenly asks, making you turn to look at him with a confused expression, “What are you—,”

“What if something happens to you and you don’t come back. What about your family? What about me?” he places a hand on his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt in feigned desperation, “I can’t live without you, (Y/N). I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you,”

His tone of voice that laced with desperation tugged at your heart strings. He knew exactly what to say and where to pull, and he almost got away with it too. However, you give him a reassuring smile and approach him, taking his hands in yours while finding the right words, “I’ll be alright. I’ll come back in one piece, and you’ll have me in your arms. You don’t have to worry about anything,” you reassure him with a gentle voice, unaware that he was trying to manipulate you with guilt. This made him realize that there was no way you would change your mind now, which also made him realize he would need to do something else. Maybe you thought he thought of you as strong, and he was simply overthinking things, but it was the complete opposite. Obito thought you were weak, because if you’re weaker than him, then that means you needed him to protect you. It was true, you weren’t at his level, let alone Kakashi’s, but you knew you were strong enough to protect yourself. Even so, Obito refused to acknowledge your strength. You could never be strong, not without him. Even thinking of it now, he didn't feel guilty for thinking this way. Why feel guilty when he’s telling himself the truth, right? He had no choice but to let go of the situation, telling you to be safe and to never lie to him again, not that you would.

You thought that this was the end of it—that Obito understood and respected your decision and you would get to leave for your mission stress free, and maybe you were half right. Obito stood at the gate, holding you in his arms one last time before you left for your mission, a small smile tainting his lips. “Be safe, okay?” He pushes a strand of hair out of your face before gently sighing, “I love you,”

His words made your stomach fill up with butterflies, leaving you with a big dorky grin on your face, “I love you too,” And with a final hug, you made your way out of the gates of Konoha, ready to begin your journey. Alone…

This was wrong. This was unacceptable. You left the village alone, sure that you would complete your mission with no problem, because you were strong. Everything you did, you did right, so there was no need for company. You were supposed to be alone. You were supposed to fight alone, yet the masked figure that followed you mercilessly throughout the entirety of your mission would think otherwise.

‘It’s to protect her,’ Obito mumbled under his breath as he kept his eyes glued to your figure, unashamed to have followed you because, why would he? He was a perfect boyfriend. This was for your safety, because you needed him to fight for you—to intervene at any moment where you found yourself hurled in trouble. You needed him, and God forbid you didn’t. His purpose was to be at your beck and call at any moment you desired, but if you didn’t call out to him, then what was his purpose? Nothing.

His heart always acted first, because his mind—his critical thinking skills would lack when it came to you. He made stupid decisions every single day of his life, but he would rather take them than regret never doing anything at all, and he hated regret.

His mind flooded with different thoughts—all of them fighting to take control of his body, because he needed some sense knocked into him.

‘She’ll lose her respect for you if she ever finds out,’

‘She won’t if she never finds out,’

‘You’re her boyfriend, you’re supposed to trust her,’

‘No, you’re supposed to protect her,’

His thoughts echoed loudly inside his head, making him almost dizzy—but he regained himself, remembering you were still moving with that determination he oh-so-despised. The determination that would drive you to take bad decisions, just like he was doing now.

‘It’s not too late to turn back,’ he stops on his tracks, considering the possibility of retreating back to the village and letting you handle your own weight. Then again, there was still an ounce of stubbornness that bubbled inside him once his mind conjured the gruesome image he’d dread to ever experience in his reality. Your death. If he were to leave you, he wouldn’t be guaranteed that you’d come back. The chances of someone telling him you horrifically passed away during your mission tortured his mind anytime he thought of your job as a shinobi. He himself could die, but he knew you were strong enough to live without him—but him? Live without you? You’re insane.

With a firm and resolute grunt, he gathered all his thoughts and made a steadfast decision. This decision was made with his heart. As his mind weighed the potential consequences of his next actions, he knew that many might disapprove, and his future with you could be jeopardized if he proceeded. Even so, not a shred of hesitation or doubt touched his heart; he was determined to follow through, regardless of the repercussions that lay ahead. With his sharingan ready, he took off towards your direction once more.

You were fine. You were nervous, but you were fine. Apart from the twist in your stomach that hit you once in a while, you were excited you were finally completing a mission of such high rank. This meant the Hokage saw potential in you—he knew you were strong! Yet your excitement would be cut short once Kunais came crashing down at you at full force. The surprise of the attack had shaken you up a little, but before any of the blades made contact with your flesh, you swiftly jumped out of the way. No way there was someone attacking you here, had they known you were coming?

Whatever it was, you kept your thoughts in control as you looked around and scanned the area. The woods made the attack a little more eerie than it should be.. no, there was something wrong. There was something definitely wrong.

Your eyes darted wildly around the forest, searching for any sign of your attacker among the endless trees. Typically, you would remain composed and level-headed in such situations, but now your body was frozen in place. Your skin felt cold and your pulse quickened, a sensation you rarely experienced—fear. Yet you couldn't understand it; fear was an alien concept to you, one that you had never allowed yourself to feel. Your body was now stuck in place while you questioned yourself why you were so afraid. It was wrong.

“Afraid, I see,” a deep, eerie voice echoed through the woods—and it was everywhere. It was both behind you and in front of you, to your left and your right, around you and on top of you, yet nowhere at all. It burnt confusion into your cowering mind, and made you tremble where you stood—once again, something that had never happened to you before. You never trembled. Your lips finally decided to part, your throat struggling to squeeze out your words when you felt almost paralyzed. “Who the hell are you,” you didn’t ask, but you demanded to know.

“It doesn’t matter. A weak little woman like you shouldn’t be out here,” he was mocking you, and you knew it, and even though you were stuck in the same place, you felt your veins burn with anger at his words, “I’m not weak woman,” through gritted teeth, you managed to defend yourself, yet nothing changed.

“To me,” the voice was now behind you. Not in front, not to your sides, not all around you, but behind you. Your panic rose through your chest once you heard him, yet you couldn’t turn around. You couldn’t… “You are,”

Your eyes shut tightly, gripped by a mix of fear, anxiety, and unspeakable horror. Your mind raced with the grim possibility of death. You were paralyzed, unable to defend yourself or even cry out. Even more unnervingly, you found yourself unable to separate illusion from reality, as if your perception of the world had become jumbled and disjointed. The lack of control over your own senses added to your mounting terror.

You found yourself enveloped in darkness, but you fought to open your eyes once more. You anticipated seeing the ominous figure, the dense woods, or any remnant of what you had been confronted with before shutting your eyes. Instead, your gaze was met with a stark, white ceiling lit by the filtered sunlight streaming through the window. The brightness made your eyes squint, and as you sat up, a wave of confusion washed over you. Your surroundings appeared to be the Konoha infirmary, leaving you utterly bewildered and disoriented. How had you even gotten there?

You wrestled to make sense of your predicament, still bewildered and disoriented, when the sound of a door sliding open drew your attention. Your vision focused to reveal Rin, her expression visibly relieved upon seeing you. A warm smile spread across her face as she approached, her voice gentle and reassuring. "Ah, you're awake," she said, her presence bringing a momentary sense of comfort.

“How am I here?” You blurted out the question without hesitation, your voice filled with confusion. Rin's expression shifted to one of surprise, but then a resigned sigh escaped her lips. She withdrew her hands from her pockets, "I suspected you wouldn't remember anything." A brief pause hung in the air before she continued, "You were ambushed during your last mission. You sustained serious injuries and lost consciousness. Luckily, a group of leaf shinobi stumbled upon you while they were en route to another assignment." She continued, gratitude coloring her tone.

You struggled to comprehend her words, but as you gazed down at your form, reality set in and the evidence was irrefutable. Your body was enveloped in layers of bandages, and your leg was encased in a sturdy, cumbersome cast. "But I...,"

As if on cue, another figure burst into the room in a state of panic. Obito appeared beside Rin, who promptly chided him for disregarding her instructions to wait outside until she confirmed your condition. Her words were ignored as he rushed towards you, instantly placing his hands on either side of your face. "You're okay!" he exclaimed, a mixture of relief and concern etched on his features.

Your mouth flew open to answer, but he quickly spoke over you, “I was so worried—and when the Hokage called I thought… well I thought something horrible happened to you,” he trailed off, and his head lit up as if he remembered something. “Obito—,”

“Speaking of the Hokage,” Obito's words piqued your curiosity as they shifted to the topic of the Hokage. He rummaged in his pocket and fished out a small envelope bearing your name. "The Hokage told me to give you this as soon as I see you. He said it's important..." he stated, passing the letter to you. As he did, his eyes betrayed his own intrigue, seemingly trying to discern its contents through the envelope itself. You received the letter and sat there, bewildered, holding it in your hand. The events were unfolding at a dizzying pace, leaving your mind struggling to catch up.

When you finally regained any sense of reality, you opened the envelope with shaky hands. You couldn’t help but notice how even your hands where covered in bandages, yet you felt no pain whatsoever. Ignoring this thought, you pull out the letter that the Hokage had sent you, your eyes scanning over the contents before your heart seemed to stop. Your eyes had to go over the words once, twice, three times before they finally settled in.

"With a heavy heart, I regret to inform you that, due to the gravity of your injuries, your request to undertake higher-ranking missions has been denied. Upon your recovery, you will be confined to completing low-ranked missions only. This restriction will remain in effect until further notice." Your mouth hung open as you kept reading, unable to say anything at all. Realization hit you hard, and you knew what this meant.

“No,” your heart clenched as you saw your dreams crumbling down. To others, this would’ve been okay. This meant they would take it easy until further notice, but to you, it was a nightmare. You had fought so hard to be seen as strong—no, you fought to be strong, and when you finally got the chance to prove yourself, you messed everything up. It took you years to get to this point, and now it would take you even longer.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you clutched the paper, crinkling it under the intense grip of your hands. "What's wrong?" Obito inquired, alarmed by your sudden sobbing. He gently took the letter from your trembling grasp, reading the contents before lowering it with a hint of pity. His voice softened as he embraced you, seeking to console you. "Oh, (Y/N)," he murmured, his arms encircling you, trying to offer solace. Rin decided this was the time to leave you both alone.

"Trust me, everything will be fine," he continued, gently guiding your head towards his chest as he attempted to soothe you by rocking you gently like a child. "You will be able to climb back up again," he reassured you, his voice tinged with exaggerated sweetness. Yet, beneath the facade, you failed to detect the subtle mockery in his tone. Hidden behind the syrupy facade, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. Without your awareness, he had effectively sabotaged your career, and you remained blissfully oblivious to the fact.

“You’ll do better, next time,”

[originalgenshinscenarios]

hi! gonna be kind of angsty but can you write shenhs x fem reader scenario in modern au where she meets the readers family for the first time and tjey are really homophobic so they are anxious but after getting to know her they end up liking her? or if too complicated how she would defend yn from homophobes or smth like that?? i hope this is okay and have a nice day!!!

I hope I did it well! I really didn't expect a prompt like that but it was definitely interesting to explore

ALSO FUCK HOYO GIVE ME HER RERUN!!! I'd sooner finish the crossover chapter than we will get her rerun fr.

[modern AU] Shenhe meeting S/O's family

Reader here is female

Cw: homophobia

Shenhe never understood why you'd be anxious about her meeting your parents. After all everything went so well with her mom she didn't think there could be a problem.

Truth is, you never told your family about dating a woman, and you had no clue how they'd react.

Now that you think about it maybe it would've been better if you told your parents about it... At least you would've known where you stand instead of worrying about their reaction.

At least you could've cancelled it before it was too late.

Still, there was no use getting worried about it now. You were on your way and felt beyond anxious.

Noticing that, Shenhe held your hand in attempt to comfort you. It wasn't exactly helping in of itself, but it's the thought that counts.

When the big reveal came you felt awful when you saw the look of disapproval on your parents' faces. Nobody said a thing, but you knew already that they're going to talk later.

The atmosphere was hostile, they were being passive aggressive- honestly you'd prefer if they just kicked you out on the spot but for some twisted reason they kept it going.

Shenhe chose to ignore their provocations and despite everything she managed to turn the conversation quite well...

You were actually impressed on how her blunt nature fixed the hostility. What you thought will be a nightmare turned into a pleasant evening.

Of course Shenhe somehow having a pleasant conversation with your parents didn't automatically mean they accepted you being with a woman. Before you left they had a little chat with you about that and they made it clear that they still don't approve of you.

You avoided the topic altogether with them, ignoring whatever they were trying to stir between you and her. You pretended like she didn't exist- rather than she was a friend whenever your family wanted to bait you into talking about her.

That gave them hope that you broke up. But you didn't. And one time as you mentioned it to Shenhe's mom, Xianyun was furious.

She wished to go to your parents herself and give them a piece of her mind. But, she didn't do that.

Instead she had a talk with her daughter. She believed it wasn't an issue she should get involved in (yet.) and that it was up to Shenhe to make things right.

But before she even attempted to even think about her mother's elaborate plan she talked to you. Basically asking about how you feel about all this.

It was a bit awkward conversation, but one important to be had. She knew now just how much your parents' behavior hurt you, and she wasn't going to let that continue.

Without your knowledge she talked to them herself. She was determined and stood her ground for the both of you. And... She was as convincing as she was threatening.

Did it make your parents accept it? For now, absolutely not. But at the very least you wouldn't have to worry about their comments or subtle requests that you change yourself.

Maybe one day, things will change and your relationship with your parents will get better, no matter what though you absolutely can count on Shenhe whenever you need her.

~Mod Lisa

[dallina17]

Sera and Velvette have a little fight about Emily.

So for a little context here, Emily has fallen and has been living in hell for a while now. She lives most of the time with Charlie at the hotel, but she also stays with Velvette when she needs fresh air, so Emily and Velvette are quite close now. I am still fleshing out the timeline for this, but this scene goes a bit like this.

Sera wants Emily to give up on supporting Charlie and advocating for sinners' redemption so Emily can get Heaven's forgiveness. Sera goes to hell to Heaven's embassy (the place where Adam and Charlie met) to talk with her and try to convince her. Emily is too nervous to go alone, so she asks Velvette to come with her.

Velvette is very fond of Emily (thou she will never admit it) so she accepts to accompany her to the meeting. Surprisingly, she manages to not insult Sera instantly, but as she hears the seraphim and the fallen angel talking, she starts to get real MAD!

Sera: Emily... you have to understand. These sinners... they have had their chance. And they didn't take it. Even if they can get to heaven..

Emily: Which we have prove they can.

Sera: ...what makes you think that they would want to change for good? That they won't just pretend to change just to go to heaven? And that once in heaven they won't do again the same acts that got them here in the first place?

Emily: But what if they do change for real! Why are you so obsessed in taking away the opportunity for them?!

Sera: Because I can't risk getting our people hurt! And neither should do. Your duty, your purpose, is to protect them. Not defend these devilish…

Emily: But...

Sera: Please. I need you to understand.

Velvette: (starts to laugh)

Sera: ...is there something amusing about this miss...

Velvette: Velvette! My name is Velvette. And yes, I find very amusing your shitty hipocresy.

Sera: Excuse me?

Emily: Velvette... it's okay... you don't have to...

Velvette: Yes I have to! Come on Em, laugh with me! Don't you find funny how she can decide demons' fate, according to her views, without consequences, but when you, a seraphim just like her, wanted to do the same, got vanished? And now she wants you to stop thinking for yourself and do as she says!

Sera: I am older, and wiser, and I know...

Velvette: Yada yada yada, quit the old woman bitchy speech, will ya? You sound like my grandmother. She always thought she was above everyone else just because she had lived longer and that everyone should do as she said. When in reality, she was just afraid of change, and be proved that their shitty values were so fucking wrong. And so are you.

Sera: You speak as if you know about heaven. About what it means to protect your people. I will ignore your behavior this time, just because you are young and naive. You don't comprehend anything, and so does Emily.

Velvette: And what, according to you, Emily needs to comprehend?

Sera: That her duty is with heaven. Not with hell. And that there is no salvations for broken souls like you.

Velvette: Boooring! (looks at Emily and smiles. Then starts to sing) Don't you think she has it twisted? I believe she is the one needing a new attitude..,

And then we would have a reprise of Respectless with Velvette defending Emily.

[jewishvitya]

I was having a conversation about "narcissistic abuse" with a person with NPD. We were talking about the need to call out toxic behaviors that might come with unmanaged NPD, and how it's nothing like what we see now online. We talked about how people like them, who want to treat others well and manage their disorder, deserve to have resources that help them have healthy relationships. And they thanked me for not immediately assuming the worst of them. Which. Just shows you how they're used to being treated.

They got suicide baiting from random strangers just for the fact that they have NPD.

I've seen people getting told "this is doing nothing but making me feel awful about myself" and responding with "you should feel awful about yourself, you're a narcissist!"

It's dangerous to equate abuse with narcissism. It's dangerous to see people with NPD as deserving of harm. Most people with NPD will already be victims of abuse - that's how the disorder is usually developed. If you buy into the idea that they're abusive by nature, you're harming survivors.

There's no harmless way to dehumanize an entire group of people. Especially not over a trait they can't help.

Victims and survivors of abuse should get to talk about their experiences. This doesn't require diagnosing anyone and it doesn't require using a term that's associated with a disorder that's already seen as an inherent evil. There's no kind of abuse that's inherent or exclusive to a specific disorder. I hear the term "coercive control" which sounds really good for the kind of emotional and psychological abuse that gets discussed in those conversations, without adding ableist stigma.

If your opposition to ableism doesn't include people with the most stigmatized disorders, how deeply are you truly thinking about things.

The harm caused to people with NPD through stigma is enough for this to matter. But in addition to that, it's harmful to other people too.

First of all, because you buy into having a group of people who become acceptable targets over a condition they can't help.

Second, because you teach yourself to armchair diagnose people. Which means that you get to put whoever you want into the "acceptable target" group.

When you have a group of people that you think don't deserve to be treated as people, it's easier to persuade you to put unrelated people in that category. Think of the way accusations of "child predator!" are wielded against queer people too. This is not an uncommon tactic.

And it's already a thing here. Sam Vaknin was the one who coined the term narcissistic abuse. That's a man with no credentials to talk about mental health or about abuse. He's a hateful bigoted person. The things that he considers narcissistic include homosexuality, transgender identities, and women who sleep with multiple men instead of settling down with one.

If you buy into the idea that having NPD essentially means being abusive, and then all these things are all narcissistic things. At that point we have a line drawn between queerness and abuse, using the line that was drawn between NPD and abuse.

And another point, about the harassment people with NPD get, is - we shouldn't be punishing people. Just, in general. Punishment isn't justice and it isn't accountability. Withstanding whatever harm people see fit to inflict on you because they were convinced to hate you, rightfully or not, isn't justice or accountability. Even if you convinced yourself that the harm isn't real because… it happens in the virtual space? And that makes it fake somehow?

Think of the way people online talk about narcissists. Think of how easily they armchair diagnose NPD, calling any abuser a narc, and sometimes from one sided stories. And the way people hurry to cyberbully and dogpile.

Abusers will often paint their victims as the abusive ones as a way to escape being known as abusive. And if you take the job of punishing people that you decided deserve it, you will at some point become a tool of an abuser trying to further harm their victim.

Even if you see evidence, it's easy to fake and manufacture. And it'll only become easier with voice and video AI tools. And even if it's all true, punishing people does nothing good.

Convincing you that a group of people is inherently dangerous is a way to make you willing to harm them, or stand by as harm is being done to them. People with NPD don't deserve that.

Stop looking for people that it's acceptable to harass and punish and ostracize. Most of us are susceptible to mob mentality, and having acceptable targets makes you dangerous.

[anime-fan-05]

*Spawns * Im back and I also would like to request something new! I wanted to ask if you could do the anime NANA? With all the NANA boys who are with a very famous singer/dancer, who in public is chill and kinda flirty for her persona as a famous singer and dancer but she is actually shy and sweet person. Thank you very much!

she does belly dance

Her music is like Gwen Stefani, lady Gaga and Odetari

Nana ~With a very famous singer and dancer, chill and kinda flirty in public but actually shy and sweet reader~

Manga/anime: Nana

Warnings: nothing

I've to admit I knew practically nothing about belly dance, so I researched it a little. I apologize if I get anything wrong!

T. Nobuo (Nobu)

At first, he was quite confused by your behavior: why would you change your behavior in public?

He blushed a lot when you two were in public and you were flirty with him, and he blushed even more if you shyly hid yourself behind him with your friends

After a while, he got used to that, although he doesn't particularly like you masking your true personality

Regarding your dance, he can't look at you while you perform it, because he'll freeze with his eyes wide open and blush a lot and, after you finish dancing, he won't be able to look you in the face due to embarrassment

Instead, he loves your kind of music!

O. Shin'ichi (Shin)

He understands your change of personality very well, since he does it a bit too, and he really enjoys teasing you when you two are alone

"S-stop it p-please, Shin..." "Oh? You weren't that shy before, were you?"

However, he might get a little jealous if you're too flirty with a fan and, if you've revealed your relationship, he'll definitely appear behind you and glare at the fan

He also blushes when he sees you dancing, but he has a much milder reaction than Nobu: at least he's able to see your performances

Although I don't think your music is his genre, he still comes to your concerts to support you and forces brings the other members of BLAST to go too

T. Yasushi (Yasu)

He's certainly the one who handles your change of personality best: at first he was a little taken aback, but then he got used to it almost immediately, and now he almost doesn't react anymore

Keyword: almost, because you can rarely surprise him!

All you need to do is to change your usual shy behavior to a more flirty one and flirt with him a little when you two are alone, and you'll be able to see a very light blush on his cheeks

Only in that way you can trigger a little embarrassment in him: you won't succeed even if you dance in front of him!

Despite being very busy, between work and his band, he always finds time to go to your concerts, especially because he wants to give you all the support he can

H. Ren

Another one who loves to tease you in private knowing how shy you're...

Really, whenever he can, he makes jokes which embarrass you, just to see you trying to cover your red face

He admires you a lot for the level you've managed to reach, but sometimes he feels a little insecure: why, he wonders, should you be with him, when you've many other men at your feet?

When you dance, his reactions will be two: the first will be to blush a little, the second to think about how beautiful you're

Your music is a source of inspiration for him: he loves listening to you sing, and he often writes the tunes for Trapnest listening to you (it could also have happened his band almost suffered an investigation for plagiarism of your songs)

I. Takumi

Jealous, jealous, jealous, extremely jealous

He's always jealous and overly protective no matter what you do, and that often leads you two to a lot of arguments

For example, does he think you're too flirtatious with a fan? He'll walk towards you, grab you by the arm and drag you to an empty corner, glaring at both the fan and you

Plus, you had to struggle to get him to accept your dance: due to his controlling nature, he really believed he could stop you from dancing; to convince him, you threatened to leave him; finally, he had to give in because, in the end, he loves you, otherwise he wouldn't be with you

Nevertheless, he really likes your music, and he might even ask you to sing with Trapnest

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[ghostoflillith]

It is not your responsibility:

To take on someone elses healing

To process someone's trauma for them

To monitor and manage someone else's emotions

To teach people how to love

To try and get people to appreciate you

To "keep the peace"

To spend all your energy trying to keep someone happy

To try and prevent someone from cheating

To teach people how to apologize & take accountability

To try and get others to change toxic behaviors

To accept responsibility for pain you didn't cause

To try and get them to heal pain they have caused to others

To do all the emotional labor in your relationships and friendships

To accept less than you deserve

To blame yourself when people treat you poorly

To teach them emotional intelligence

To stay quiet when you are hurting

To lie and hide things for them

To protect people who wouldn't do the same for you

To help someone else grow

To teach people how to find healthy coping mechanisms that work for them

To allow yourself to be taken for granted for the sake of "love"

To believe them when they have been caught lying before

To teach people self love

To make excuses, explanations or justifications for someone else

To allow yourself to be manipulated because you want to believe them

To control other people

To awaken them

To change their beliefs about themselves and the world around them

To convince them why they should want to better themselves

To pull them out of the hole they've dug for themselves

To try to repair relationships you didn't break

To stay where you feel you no longer belong

To make yourself small to keep other's comfortable

It IS our responsibility to heal OURSELVES, and in doing so, inspiring other's to do the same.

No matter how many people have told you that you are a "healer," it is NOT your responsibility to heal those who don't want to be healed, aren't ready for it, or arent appreciative of you.

Some may never take this path, and that is their choice to make.

Protect your energy.

[vibratingskull]

Yandere!Thrawn x F!reader chapter 7

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Tag: Yandere behaviors (duh), gaslighting, feeding, bathing

You wake up with a terrible headache. One of your eyes barely opens and you can’t move your body, too ankylosed.

You’re…. You’re neither in the med bay nor your room? You’re on satin covers in a double bed in a large bedroom that you don’t know. You lower your gaze to see your arm and your leg in a cast. Your nose is super painful, you’re convinced it’s broken. In fact your whole body is terribly painful, you try to roll on your side and feel all your bones crack.

You abandon the idea of rolling up, standing up is impossible, walking is a dream…

What now?

You try to push your body in a sitting position and manage after groans of pain and failed attempts. When you finally succeed the door in front of the bed slides open.

“ You are awake, I am relieved.” Thrawn says with a comforting smile.

“Thrawn?” You ask, head still foggy “Where… Where am I? Why am I not in my room?”, “Still as sharp as ever, I see. You are in my bedroom.” 

You just remain mute at that fact. His room? 

He simply sits on the edge of the bed and puts his hand on your forehead. “You have no fever, that is reassuring.”, “Why am I not in the med bay?” you inquire. “Spirits are too heated to let you without surveillance and security, so I took it upon myself to look after you.” He says softly, almost joyfully.

“I… Thank you.” you just mutter. “You are welcome.” He smiles. “I could not leave you in open danger like that.” You shiver, he didn’t say “contrary to you.” but you clearly felt it. You slowly raise your gaze to him, almost timidly and he meets it with clear resolute eyes. “You put us in a difficult situation, earlier.” He chides “I hope you are aware of your responsibilities in what happened.”

What responsibilities? You got beat up by a mob of angry colleagues…

“I… No?” You groan in pain, pulling on the cover over yourself in a self soothing motion. “I’m having a hard time seeing how it could be my fault?” you say genuinely lost.

“If you did not stray from the right path you would not have incurred the wrath of your tormentor.” He explains. Stray from the right path? What does that mean? What did you do? You did nothing wrong, right? What could have you done wrong? You mentally repass the last months in your head trying to find the catalyst of that hate and violence  but you followed orders diligently, you didn’t speak ill of anybody, you didn’t do anything reprehensible or wrong to someone. So what did you do? The only thing coming to your mind is Thrawn, but he would never do such a thing! He is not twisted like that.

You must have done something or this wouldn’t have happened to you. Right?

“I… I don’t know, I just…”. He cuts you, raising his open hand, “It is useless to brood over your past errors. You cannot do anything to erase them, what you have done is done and here to stay. The only thing you can do is work harder to right your wrongs.” 

“Thrawn, I assure you… I did nothing.”, “Now, now, (Y/n). You clearly have done something, people do not turn against others for the simple pleasure of it. I wish I was there to help you in that moment but I needed time to heal after what you have done to me.” He calmly explains.

“I… I am sorry, Thrawn.” you murmur honestly, shuddering. “I accept your excuses. But that will be the only time.” He mercifully conceded. “Not everyone is as understanding as I am, you should be more careful.”

“I’m… sorry…” you can only repeat. He takes your hand and squeezes it with a gentle smile. “Now, we should focus on your recovery. I defend you from leaving the bed and my suite.”, “I hardly see how I can even roll on the side, I’m completely paralyzed.”, “Poor thing. I will help you, then.” he just responds as if it was obvious.

“What? No! You have work and things to do, leave me with a droid, I will find a way to manage”, “Your frail body is still too fragile to be manipulated by crude mechanical beings, they will only hurt you more. Let me take care of everything.” He counters. You’re about to retort something back when you cross his eyes.

You shiver.

Something in his gaze makes you shut up instantly. He is smiling but his eyes aren’t laughing. They are dark and resolute. This is not a proposition from your friend but an order from your Grand Admiral.

“...Alright, Grand Admiral.” you submit reluctantly. “That is the spirit.” he answers with a dark cold voice inciting no resistance. “You will have a warm dinner and then I will run you a bath.”

You do not need to know he is the one that cleaned your body each evening when you were unconscious. He will leave that detail out… But he didn’t deprive himself to take some pictures and movies. Why would he? You are such a beautiful model by the way.

You lower your gaze, defeated and he softens at your expression. He squeezes your hand again and pulls on the covers revealing your little pajamas and your leg, indeed, in a cast. Your eyes open wide, you were sleeping in those little shorts in his bed??! Argh!

He very carefully scoops up your body to bring you to the living room.

“Thrawn, let me down immediately!” you protest, “What a way to speak to your superior trying to help, Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n).” You gulp, biting your lips, he’s gonna play that card now?

He lays you on a chair and hands you a plate, inviting you to start dining. He simply sits next to you, observing you intently. You purse your lips, embarrassed “You’re not gonna dine with me?” you ask, “I have already eaten.” He bows his head slightly.

 You grasp the fork and start eating under his intense gaze. Or rather you try, your dominant hand is in the cast and you don’t do well with the other. After several unsuccessful attempts you start losing patience and groan between your teeth.

“Let me help.” He falsely sighs impatiently. He takes your plate and cuts the meat in manageable pieces and picks one with the fork and extends his hand to you, like someone helping a child to eat.

Your gaze travels between the juicy bites of meat on the fork to his calm expression. There is no way you’re doing that! “No.” You just say, shaking your head. “You are a grown woman, you should know when to admit you need help.” he stoically assesses.

You wrinkle your nose before giving in and let him feed you. You’ve never been so humiliated! Spoon-feeded like a goddamn child! You swallow with reluctance but eat nonetheless. It pains you to admit it but this is delicious, way better than what is served in the mess halls of the Chimaera. You let a moan escape you as you savor the creamy sauce.

Isn’t it weird to have you eat something solid that needs both hands to be cut, shouldn't you have a simple soup instead? It’s like it is purposefully made to put you in situations where you need his help… Surely not, surely it is a coincidence.

“There, good girl.” He praises you.

You froze completely. Did he just say what he just said?

“What did you call me?” you ask with a shaken voice. “I simply called you a good girl, to support you.” He responds like it is the most normal thing in the world, “I know it is hard to eat with a cast.”. “Hm hm.” You’re not convinced. At all. “I’m not sure I am comfortable…”, “My excuses. Where I came from we are not shy with pet names between friends. It is a force of habits.” he outrageously lies. But how could you know anything about his cultural background anyway? You can only take his words at face value.

“Oh… Okay…” you accept, it doesn’t please you but if he can’t help it, what can you really do? “Now you need to eat to recover some strength, at least three more bites.” He orders, blowing on the hot meat to freshen it up, “Here.”. You obediently eat, swallowing your pride to be forced to eat like a two year old and feeling embarrassed to force a Grand Admiral, your friend, to take his precious times to help you like that.

He takes a napkin and wipes your lips clean with a lopsided grin while you protest “I can at least do that myself!” you bite but he shushes you. He is tremendously pleased by the situation while you are infuriated. You’ll come to your senses soon, when you realize you cannot do anything without his help you’ll relax and obey, you are at his complete mercy, wounded, paralyzed, nobody knows he came to carry you out of the med bay, you cannot do the most basic tasks without his help. He has you all to himself! His heart flutters thinking of all those future weeks of intimate and privileged moments with you. He's on the verge of implosion.

What bliss!

You seemed soooo enraged eating like that, but obediently submitted realizing you had no choice. He could do that all day! Cutting your meat and feeding you, he wants you to eat on his large laps, you so petite, so minuscule compared to his huge stature, your weight was so light in his arms, so fragile… A real porcelain doll, to be manipulated and treated with the utmost consideration and tenderness.

He can do that! He is a Chiss and a deadly warrior with the highest body count imaginable but he can be oh so tender for you. Just for you… Tender and soft, treating you like a Goddess.

But now it is time to bathe you!

He carries you to the bathroom bridal style with such ease it is almost insulting to you. And he left you there, letting you alone fully knowing you’ll need his help to just undress.

But he wants YOU to call for him, to admit you cannot do anything alone, giving him a pretext to bath you himself.

And sure enough, after two minutes he hears a faint call for his name. “Thrawn…”

He re-enters the bathroom with a false wondering expression. You’re sitting on the tube, head in your hand, looking tired. “A problem?” he politely asks, “I can’t even undress, could you please help me?” You ask, defeated and humiliated. “Of course.”

He helps you undress, the tips of his fingers only slightly grazing your naked skin, leaving goosebumps on their trails. Your skin is so soft… He wants to lick it with the flat of his tongue right here and there! Lick every crook and cranny of your body, making you his. But he abstains himself.

Now it is not the time.

You become suddenly shy and squeamish when it is time to get rid of your bra and panties. Suddenly your gaze avert his eyes and you turn your head to not look at him. He unclips your bra with ease and he feels you shudder when the soft fabric slides off your delicate skin and kneels and hooks your panties, “innocently” caressing your thighs as they roll down your legs. You can’t hide neither your breast nor your sex because you have to take support on him to just stand without falling and he hid any towels in advance, leaving you completely bare before him. “I am sorry to ask you such a thing.” You confess, heat burning your cheeks, biting your lips. “It is quite okay, I knew what it entailed when I accepted to take care of you.”

He doesn’t smile, remaining stoic and serious but it is so funny to have you say sorry while everything is exclusively his fault. And everything is happening as he planned all along. How he loves when a plan goes smoothly, especially a plan so delicious as this one…

You’re shaking, exposed like never before. He runs the bath and gently helps you enter so you don’t slip. You sit down with a wince of pain and jump out of your skin when you feel his hands full of soap on your back. You turn to him shocked “What are you doing?” Why did he not leave already?

“You can barely sit without help, I do not know how you can properly wash yourself.” He tilts his head like he doesn’t understand your outrage. “I… You… I will manage!”, “Come on now, we are both adults. Let me help, the more you do, the sooner it will end.” You grit your teeth, digging your nails in your palms, but let him do it. He’s right. As always…

But he takes his sweet, sweet time, thoroughly washing every once of your skin. Yes, EVERY once. He forces you to lift your arms to wash your breast and open your legs to scrub your inner thighs. “Isn’t it excessive?” You try to signal him politely, voice shaking, but he doesn’t care, “I know where germs like to hide on a body.” He responds with a calm, almost uninterested tone as he massages your left boob to lather it up, he grabs it well, resist the urge to pinch your nipple (so, so tempting), feeling its weight in his warm palms and revels in the softness of your flesh. You truly are perfection incarnated! 

You? You’re trembling terribly, words blocked in your throat and shallow breaths barely reach your lungs. How did you came to that? How did you???? You appreciate his willingness to help but his perfectionism pushes things too far to your taste, but for any complaints you have he has a sound argument in return. You give him embarrassed side glances, he looks as stoic as usual, like he has seen millions naked bodies in his life and yours is just one among others. He clinically washes you, scrubbing your whole body with soap, with his disinterested gaze floating over your body like a simple heap of flesh. He clearly is not as disturbed as you are.

Maybe it's you? Maybe you really are just acting like a spoiled child and should let him do his work without disturbing him…

He carefully gives each part of your body the same amount of attention to not appear suspicious, and truthfully? Your hands and feets deserve the same amount of care from him as your breast. 

He is in heaven. You are letting him touch you so intimately… Not really enthusiastically consenting to it of course, but still. What progress! He wants to hold you close, to kiss your neck, to trail your sensitive slit…

One day he will have all of that, he promised himself.

He scrubs your body with towels, preventing you from wrapping you in one while pretending to help you. He notices your nails are a bit long, he should take the time to file them, he would even apply some nail polish if you wish.

He gives you a new outfit (that he had tailored to his personal tastes) with new undergarments (why does he have that in the first place?) and sneakily robs you of your dirty ones. He needs them for his personal times.

Aren’t you so cute in those clothes? Aren’t you adorable in those colors? The light dress is perfectly cut, hugging your delicious forms tight, leaving little to the imagination but is long enough to not raise suspicion from you. 

“Why not a uniform?” you ask confused. “You are not in service while in remission, I thought you would appreciate some liberties in your range of clothing.” Liberties that he will choose the limits of, of course.

He gently scoops you up again, “Hold on to me.” He casually says. You circle his neck with your arm, pressing you against his large, warm body. You strangely feel safe in his arms despite what just happened, like it is your true place, in his arms… You shake your head.

“I will need to leave you for the rest of the afternoon, my break ended an hour ago.” He informs you, laying you on the bed, tugging you under the covers. “Oh no! I’m so sorry, Thrawn.” You present your excuses, “It was necessary, I would not have let you roam my suite naked and soapy.” He chuckles.

Only joking, of course he would have if he listened to himself.

He hands you your drawing folder with a board game, “I have a TV in my bedroom and there is some holobooks in the bedside table, if you need anything ring me on my comlink.” And he adds only for himself “I will come running immediately.”

But you don’t hear him. He gently smiles at you and kisses your forehead delicately “I will come back as soon as I can.”

@bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

[dearweirdme]

The issue about tae/nnie has taken so much space in my brain for about a month now and it's making me go through such an unhealthy obsession.

I get bothered whenever that video appears in my timeline, but I'd still deliberately look for more clues and connections. I get an irrational satisfaction whenever I see posts dragging the girl (which I think is so evil of me. I mean, I never really liked her even before this, plus, her show really made me hate her more). I never engaged in fanwars. I'm just on the sideline, reading hate posts one after another. I would intentionally look for tags and stuff related to them. It's mentally exhausting. I'm beating myself up so much over it. I'm trying to find answers in an unhealthy way. It's not good.

I understand why fans are still having a hard time accepting it considering it all started with an accidental follow, then the gurumi photos, then now this. We've been debunking this for so long, so it may take awhile to accept everything. I'm still not sure if it was them coz the narrative was full of holes and downright suspicious. We haven't seen Tae in that jacket and hat, but the pants and shoes were the same. The Celine bag was there, too, held by the manager. Jennie was seen in that outfit, too, days after that. Jennie's hair was the same. Also, that fan who asked for an autograph, although super suspicious coz how in hell was she bringing a magazine with her at that time of night. The clearer video looked definitely like Tae, so I dunno what to believe anymore. They were seen getting inside the hotel, too, so, I dunno anymore.

I've been reading posts denying the rumors, too, so it's honestly just so confusing.

Thing is, nobody really knows what's the truth, only Tae and Jennie and their companies do.

I've been reading your asks, and there were a few who are convinced that Tae is not gay. Maybe we just read him wrong, and he's just an LGBT ally. However, I disagree with the anon who said Tae can't be gay because of Wooga or Bogum coz men can be friends with gays, too. I have gay friends and straight male friends, and they get along just fine.

It's been almost a month, and we still haven't gotten our answers, and surely, there won't be any confirmation happening ever. We will just live through the confusion until one day, this will just become part of our memory as their fans.

For now, we just have to remember why we became fans in the first place. We always have to hold on to that reason why we chose BTS, what they did for us. We need to continue supporting them. We don't own them. They make us happy, we should let them find their happiness, too.

Also, I realized how fickle our minds can get. If we're not mentally strong, we can get swayed easily. We create our own truths and beliefs based on our own understanding and judgment, so we have to try surrounding ourselves with more possitive things.

We're all in this together! Happy Festa!

Hi anon!

I fear you are making yourself very unhappy at the moment. I'm glad you recognize what you're doing isn't good for you. Maybe step out for a bit?

At this point you're unlikely to find out anything new about the Paris footage. But I don't even think that's where your real problem lies. You feel too unsure about Tae and Jk probably, and you're expressing obsessive behavior because you want to make sense of things and go back to feeling safe in your believes. But the thing is, we will never know exactly what's happened, so you are likely to always have a hint of doubt in your mind. That is what you have to come to terms with, living with doubt.

Doubt can make people feel really unsafe, even when it doesn't involve themselves. Just try to tell yourself that you are safe (at least I hope you are). Whatever happens to Tae and Jk has no physical effect on your safety. You yourself are not being attacked or harmed. Try to avoid reading hate. Hate is a nasty thing, it will never make you happy. You don't have to look at stuff containing Jennie if it makes you sad. It's all about choices anon, you just have to make the right ones for yourself. You do have some control here, you have the control to filter what you see.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

I've experienced this, and this is a great explanation of how it feels and how to identify it. I agree that we cannot let it become a term used lightly or meant to downplay the seriousness of its effects, because it can have devastating effects on one's life - I know it certainly did for me.

Some of the more serious effects not already mentioned: it's also excruciating. Often, the abuser will convince you that you're the one who is acting harmfully (even if it makes no sense or was obviously a mistake rather than malicious) and so you spend tons of time going over every single little detail of your interactions to make sure that you didn't do or say something bad and raking yourself over the coals for every tiny mistake. It got to the point with me that I was losing hair from the stress and sleeping very little or too much in waves. I wasn't eating enough and was the skinniest I've ever been in my adult life despite him trying to force me to eat more and count calories to regain some weight. I still have digestive issues I can trace basically back to that time.

To that end: it can have long-term physical effects as well as mental/emotional, because the stress can be so severe that it triggers chronic illness or creates stress-induced health problems. Abusers may also mess with your healthcare by interfering with your willingness to seek help, treat or prevent illness or symptoms, convincing you that your medications are to blame for your appalling lack of memory or crazy behavior (instead of, y'know, the abuse), ruining your trust in your doctor's professional judgment, etc.

Another common thing I've seen in gaslighting relationships and also personally experienced, is that the abuser will use this to literally reshape who you are as a person and/or how you think of yourself. In my case, my abuser managed to gaslight me into detransitioning and accepting really traditional gender roles in the relationship, among lots of other random ideas and politics I never would have accepted otherwise.

Abusers will also use gaslighting to push boundaries and put you in situations where your consent is compromised because you only want to do [x] thing that the abuser wants, because it will alleviate some other facet of the abuse. Sex thing you don't really want to try but the abuser does? Give it a month, and it'll become a bargaining chip to try and get the abuser to treat you like a person again. And then it's not rape at that point, is it? You asked for this - begged for it, even - so why do you feel so violated when the abuser gives you the opportunity?

Groups, such as a family or polyamorous relationship, where the abuser's version of reality is supported versus your own make this all so so much worse and harder to claw out of, for probably obvious reasons. Incidentally, this is a huge reason why cults do such a number to people’s mental health and are so hard to escape.

Best thing you can do if you suspect you are experiencing this is, in fact, to document what you can to help regain some grip on reality outside the abuser's version of reality. That's what ultimately helped me to get out fully and to start the long road to healing. It's been well over a decade, and I've recovered about as much as I think I'm ever going to, and I still occasionally refer back to old writings of mine whenever I slip back into questioning whether it really was that bad.

While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.

Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.

If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.

This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.

As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:

"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."

"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."

"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"I must have been wrong."

This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:

"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"

"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."

"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"

Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.

You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.

The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:

Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.

A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.

Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.

Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.

The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:

Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.

Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.

Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.

Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.

Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)

Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)

I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.

I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".

('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)

[autistic-android42]

If you’re ever talking to someone about trans people and they pull the classic “god doesn’t make mistakes card” I got some advice for you as someone who was raised Christian and actually managed to fit the existence of trans people into a Christian worldview BEFORE i ultimately decided the main problem with every religion is everyone being way too hung up on the details and forgetting the actually important doctrines (you know, like not being a massive dick)

First off, don’t get hostile or defensive. No matter how well articulated your argument is it will be dismissed if you are being too emotional (especially if you happen to be a woman unfortunately) and no one likes being accused of being a bigot so don’t even imply that the person you’re talking to is being discriminatory. If you actually want to convince someone to stop being a bigot you have to go into the conversation with the assumption that the person you’re talking to does genuinely care about people.

Second, keep in mind that you are not responsible for other people’s opinions or behavior, and if you fail to convince them it is not your fault. It is also not your responsibility to change someone’s mind so do not feel obligated to do so if talking to people like this makes you uncomfortable.

Now the immediate response to the assertion that god doesn’t make mistakes is to make an assertion of your own. You must assert that a person being born in a body that doesn’t match their gender is not a mistake. You must assert that god did this on purpose. This is because there is legitimately no other way to reconcile Christianity with the existence of trans people. In Christianity god is literally perfect and does not make any mistakes ever, so everything that exists is part of his will. As a result if you want a Christian to believe something is a real and natural part of the world you have to find a way to explain it within that assertion.

When the person you are talking too asks for an explanation for WHY god would have someone be born in the wrong body you need to point out 2 things to them.

1. God said to love your neighbor as yourself

And 2. God made people different from each other

These are two statements that no Christian can deny.

After you point these things out to them explain that if god had made everyone the same he would not have needed to tell us to love our neighbor as ourselves. Further explain that god made us different from each other in many different ways as a test. That he is challenging us to love people who are so unlike ourselves that we don’t even understand them. Explain that god made people different in so many different ways too. He made people to look different, sound different, even THINK different. Do not forget to point out birth defects in this part, and how it’s possible for a baby to be born missing limbs or having a tail. Also be sure to point out that different people will find a different half of that commandment harder to follow. That some people have trouble loving their neighbors and others have trouble loving themselves. And finally circle back to trans people. Your final assertion is that god made trans people to test their ability to find a way love themselves despite their body not matching their gender, which is typically done by transitioning. AND to test the people around them on their ability to love someone whose experience is so different from their own that they can’t even imagine it.

You do not have to believe in god to make this argument, as long as you aren’t derisive about it. If it’s clear from the way you are speaking that you think believing in god is stupid this almost certainly won’t work.

This argument did work at least once, on an older lady I used to work with. I haven’t had the opportunity to use it since then, but hopefully by telling y’all about it we can get at least a few more folks to accept people for who they are

[sehyix]

November 21, 2022

I'm the quality control auditor for a higher-education institution that trains professionals in specialized careers - like becoming idols or managing high-risk portfolios at financial banks and corporations. I'm walking through a warehouse to find one of the trainees that recently debuted over the last few weeks and coach him for his behavior. He debuted rather quickly and was wildly successful, but the institution felt that he was acting too cheeky and flirty, too fast. He's unloading boxes from a delivery and stacking them in a different area - it's something all trainees are required to continue working while they finish school. The girl he's flirting with books it when she sees me walk up with my clipboard.

I tell him that he's being warned about how he was acting overly flirty and goofy during the last broadcast his group had recently had, and that he needs to remember he's still new. He's intimidated by me but still a little aloof about it, and upon seeing the look on my face stops chuckling. "Noonim," he starts with a little bow, "I apologize for upsetting you all with my behavior. The thing is that I was looking up to You-hyung and emulating him because he's really popular with the fans that way. I assumed I could do it (flirt with the girls) because, You-hyung senior does it quite often and he's been goofy since he debuted." He brings you up directly because it's somewhat known that we are a couple, and possibly appealing to my jealousy? But I'm not deterred nor entirely sure if he knew that we were dating.

"You can't compare yourself to the peers that came before you. I'm aware that You is very popular for being a goofball and making that his charm but you are not him. You're also brand new and haven't built up the reputation to back up your behavior. So make sure you're acting right for the future. You'll know when it's alright for you to let loose. Now clean up this mess and get back to work." I point around to the mess of boxes that he should have had cleaned up but was busy flirting on the clock over. He bows in apology and gets to work. I make my way over across campus to meet up with the Dean and walk into his office. I tell him what the trainee has told me about emulating you and the Dean's look is grim. "Well then, You also needs to be spoken to," he tells me, glancing at me above his spectacles. Again, undeterred because this is my fucking job and I'm a professional, I nod. "I absolutely agree with that," I tell him wholeheartedly. He's staring me down with a "that's your man but I need you to do what I hired you for" look. He nods in acceptance and I bow my head to take my leave. You're more trouble than you realize, I think to myself.

Outside the building, I walk down the steps to shoo some students that were dawdling from getting to their class. They panic and run off at the sight of me as I notate the time off the clock tower in the distance. Your chuckling reaches my ears first from behind me before you try to wrap your arms around me and I stop you with a look. "Oooh, that looked so cute and powerful how people fear and listen to you," you compliment me and flash me a lopsided smile. "And you too, I've gotten complaints about you and taking your goofing off too far. Don't think you're getting off the hook just because I'm dating you. I have a career and reputation to uphold. Us isn't going to affect that," I scold you and you pout. "Okay babe," you whine, "how can I help?" I tell you to come with me to audit my next assignment so you can see how I work, and specifically learn what I'm looking for and how I guide and discipline the company's students and graduates. You happily agree to hang out with me this way and dress up in your finest business suit. We make our way over to a bank just off-campus that services the university and high-risk clients. Before we enter, you crack a joke about how you probably couldn't convince them that you were a business suit & tie professional and I give you a death glare, stopping you in your tracks. "Follow my lead, stay quiet, and don't make any jokes," I tell you before we enter.

The alarm goes off as I'm chatting with one of our graduates, that so happens to be a witch and was telling me about the real inner corruption and workings of the bank. You were standing behind her wide-eyed that no one there questioned your authenticity or credentials as she dropped bomb after bomb about the bank's secrets.

Hours later, my friend that met Dae in real life while I was dreaming this with you, tells me he asked her if she was in Mexico. Neither of us understand where that comes from, but seeing as I'm Latina my alarms are flashing off. Maybe it was a mistake? Maybe it was a coincidence? At this point, I don't even know anymore.

[denim-mixtapes]

All I Ever Wanted Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.8K Tags: Best friends to lovers, minor hurt/comfort, half-joking marriage proposals, VERY BRIEF fatphobic comment and general bad-date-behavior, really stupidly soft fluff, pet names instead of y/n.

Summary: Eddie has always been your best friend, the person you'd much rather spend your time with than going out on dates, but he swears he never wants to get married and likes to play the wingman for you, so you've come to terms with the fact that things will always just be platonic between you...or will they?

[AO3]

As the man in front of you chews his steak, open mouthed, and over-explains the American football scoring system you can’t stop your mind from wandering. Your fork pokes at your risotto absent-mindedly as you give your date a blank nod. Before this date, you were confident that a touchdown was worth six points, but the tone with which he’s speaking to you has you doubting yourself on a subject you honestly couldn’t care less about. 

Another nod and a soft “mhm,” prompts him to continue, however, so you figure you have another five to ten minutes of daydreaming before he decides to ask you another rhetorical question and speak over your answer.

Your date drones on, and you can’t help but wonder what you would be doing if you turned down this dinner to hang out with your best friend (like you originally wanted to). 

Sure, you shouldn’t be thinking about another man when you’re on a date, but Eddie Munson isn’t just some other man. He never has been. From the moment you joined Hellfire club in your freshman year, the man has been nothing less than a best friend to you. Even now, well into your twenties, he’s the only constant in your life. Dates come and go, but you’ll always have Eddie. 

Of course, you’ve always wondered if there could be something more there. After all, not a day goes by that you don’t speak. 

There’s a level of comfort between you two that you don’t think you’ve ever experienced even within your long term relationships. Hands that always seem to find each other, whispers passed across the small expanse of a shared bed during movie nights that went on for just a little too long. His shoulder felt like the comfiest pillow whenever you sat next to him on the couch, and he swears up and down that nobody is allowed to touch his hair, but he’s always begging you to braid it for him. Smiles passed over cocktail glasses and beer bottles after his band plays a show, his hand on your knee when he accompanies you to the latest play you’ve been dying to see. Every outing with your best friend feels more like a date than the last…but then he urges you to accept the drinks from strangers at the bar and convinces you to go on dates when other people ask, which is how you ended up here. Plus, he’s vehemently anti-marriage and laughs whenever you bring up your dream wedding, claiming he never wants to be tied down, so you know even if you did try to pursue something more than friendship with him, it wouldn’t lead anywhere.

Still, you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Yeah, you think as a bit of mashed potato flies from your date’s mouth, landing on the rim of your glass, you’d take a lifetime of platonic dates with Eddie over this any day. Even if platonic is all it will ever be.  

You manage to make it through dinner with a forced pleasant smile and a neck ache from nodding so much, but politely decline dessert in hopes to get out of the restaurant as soon as possible. 

“Atta girl,” the creep actually snorts, nose turned up and eyes pointed at your backside as you stand to leave. You also notice that the amount of cash he threw on the table would only account for a $0.47 tip on a nearly $30 bill, but that’s hardly relevant as he finishes his comment. “Gotta keep it tight, right? The chocolate cake really isn’t worth the risk.” 

His hand on your lower back feels slimy as he guides you out of the restaurant and you bite your tongue to hold back a venomous reply. 

When you stop in front of your car, you’re thanking every deity possible that you decided to meet him here rather than accepting his offer to drive you. The air is tense, thick with humidity and the impending horror that is the kiss he surely feels entitled to, but before he gets too close your hand flies out between you, stopping him in his tracks with an awkward grin. Reluctantly, he shakes your hand, still leaning in and hoping he might still get at least a little bit lucky. His smarmy smile raises the hair on the back of your neck when he promises to call you. 

You severely hope that he doesn’t. 

It isn’t until you take your keys out of the ignition ten minutes later that you realize in your skeeved out haze, your auto-pilot has brought you to Eddie’s driveway rather than your apartment complex. 

The lights inside are out, but a faint blue television glow in the living room window tells you that he’s home and more than likely awake. With a huff, you kick off your heels and throw them into the back seat, more interested in braving the rocks in the driveway than going another minute wearing the damn things, and make your way to the front door. You let yourself in with your spare key, but announce your arrival with a boisterous shout so you don’t startle him. 

“Hey! Just me!” You call, hanging your purse off of the barstool nearest the door and shedding your jacket. 

There’s a muffled greeting from the couch, and you look up to find Eddie waving and smiling around a mouthful of popcorn. After an exaggerated swallow, he repeats, “wasn’t expecting you tonight.” 

“Yeah,” you say with another dramatic huff, padding down the length of the trailer to his bedroom. He watches with amusement as you strut around his home as if it were your own, never once does he stop you, though. Already digging in his dresser drawers, you call out to him, “can I borrow some pajamas? I need to get out of these damn pantyhose.” 

His only response is a gentle laugh and a soft, “‘Course, doll.” 

There’s an electronic fizzle from beyond the door, and the blue light goes dark, followed soon enough by a light rapping of Eddie’s knuckles against the door left slightly ajar. You’ve just pulled on your favorite tee shirt of his (a threadbare tour shirt from Ozzy Osbourne’s Ultimate Sin concert, the tickets were his present from you for finally graduating) and a clean pair of boxers, so you wrench open the door to find him leaning casually on the frame, innocent smile fixed on his face. 

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks. 

Of course, he doesn’t really want to listen to you talk about your date. He never does, though he’d never admit it to you, but he’s gotten used to this particular kind of torture, and he’d rather hear you huff about the bad ones than gush about the good ones anyway. 

A heavy sigh hangs in the air between you, and you shrug as you flop ungracefully onto his bed, scooting higher to rest your feet on the headboard and flinging your arms out beside you haphazardly. The mattress dips beside you as Eddie lays down as well, head next to yours, feet dangling off the foot of the bed. His hair tickles at your ear where it fans out beside him, and you giggle as you reach up to tuck it away, turning your head to face him as best you can. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh one more time, “there isn’t much to say that couldn’t be said about the last one.”

“Did this one at least remember his wallet?” He asks, a bite in his tone that he usually reserves only for the men who treat you poorly.

You hum, hand still tangled in his hair. “Yeah, but the poor waitress deserved a much better tip than he gave her so I couldn’t leave without slipping a fiver on the table.” 

“You’re a saint, sweetheart.” He chides with a sole, warm ‘hmph’ of a laugh.

“Yeah well,” your own laugh is bitter, “he practically grabbed her ass and called mine too fat in the same breath, so I felt like I owed her something to apologize for his behavior.” 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” 

For all the anger in his words, his voice is soft. The air between you crackles with warmth, comfort. Eddie turns to face you, reaching up to hold onto your wrist as you continue to play with his hair thoughtlessly. His thumb strokes at the soft skin he finds there, warm brown eyes searching your own as you continue. 

“I wish.” You don’t want to admit what comes next, but the words flow on their own, damning you before you could even try to stop them. “...You know, I sometimes wonder why I even bother with these men when here you are, being absolutely perfect.” 

He beams with pride, eyes wrinkling at the corners like they always do when you catch him off guard with a compliment. He looks like sunshine and it makes your heart ache. 

“Well, I try my best.” The silence in his pause is familiar, not uncomfortable, both of you teetering on the edge of a giggle that you won’t fully let out. After another beat, he groans dramatically as he sits up, using his feet for momentum to stand fully. You watch as he stands in front of the mirror on his dresser and piles his hair atop his head, pulling a scrunched sort of face as he can’t get it to sit just right. “Anyway, you deserve it, you know.” He says, making eye contact with you in the reflection. “The best, that is.” 

You roll your eyes and sit up, scooting to the end of the bed and patting the spot in front of you. “Come here, before you make it worse.” 

He manages a sheepish smile and sits cross legged on the floor in front of you. As you finger comb out the tangles in his hair, slowly, and with quite a bit of resistance, you keep ranting, foolishly. You don’t notice that he preens at your touch, that he’s practically melting under your ministrations. He swears he’ll be a puddle of a man before you’re finished with the braid you’re working on, too focused on your playing in his hair that he zones out for a moment until your hands come to a stop, tying off the braid and patting his shoulders with one final, pathetic mumble. 

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just not meant to ever get married.” 

Eddie’s heart cracks along with the crack in your voice. 

He laughs, not maliciously, but dry and in disbelief, and he turns in place. Kneeling now, he wraps his arms around your waist and scratches absent-mindedly at your lower back. Eyebrows knit together with concern as he studies your face and realizes, while a little misguided, you’re serious. Eddie wants to argue, he wants to explain at great lengths how very untrue that is, how you’re still young and you’ll still find your person and that maybe you’ve already met your person and maybe he’s right here already on his knees in front of you…

…but all that comes out is a harsh, hissed, “fuck that.” 

Something unidentifiable in his eyes – hurt, maybe? – claws at your chest, constricting your heart in the same way that his arms squeeze your sides. 

Suddenly, eye contact with your best friend becomes the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. Your eyes drop to where your hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt, the tiniest shake to your head that you aren’t even sure he could detect. 

“Hey,” he says, voice tight but stern. Hands splay open on your back, and he ducks lower to meet your gaze. “Look at me.” 

Down the line, if anyone were to ask Eddie what made him say what he says next, he wouldn’t have a straight answer. Maybe it’s the tears pooling in your eyes that he desperately wants to stop from falling, or the way you reach out to hold his cheek when your eyes meet again. Maybe it’s the sick churning in his stomach, an uneasy, uncomfortable sort of feeling that he thinks might only go away if he tells you how he feels. Maybe some combination of the three. 

Whatever it is that makes him say it doesn’t matter, because he says it, and he says it with all the confidence in the world. 

“Shit, I’ll marry you,” he says softly, “just say the word.” 

A laugh bubbles from your lips, a tinny, wet little giggle, but it stops the tears from falling and it’s music to Eddie’s ears. You clear your throat, heart swelling at his words, and laugh again. 

At first you aren’t sure how to take the comment. Though his words are ripe with sincerity, it's clearly a joke. It has to be. He’s just trying to make you feel better. 

You wrinkle your nose and stroke his rosy cheekbone with your thumb, letting out another laugh. “What,” you say, dropping your hand to rest on his shoulder. “You wanna make one of those marriage pacts?” 

“Mariage what?” 

Eyes rolling, you squeeze his shoulder before scooting back up the bed to lay down. “You know,” you chuckle, working your way under the covers while Eddie stands to turn off the light. “If neither of us are married – which I know you won’t be – in ten years, we’ll marry each other.

“Nah,” he brushes off casually. The way he lands on the mattress beside you makes your whole body bounce and you giggle, he must have launched himself from the doorway to land like that. He props himself up on his elbow, one hand on his own cheek and the other reaching out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean, if that’s what you want. But I’d marry you tomorrow. Shit,” this time when he laughs, you can hear the nervous energy behind it. Your eyes search his face for any hint of a joke or tease, but all you find are deep, sincere eyes and a wrinkle between his worried brow. “I’d take you to the courthouse tonight in my Ozzy tee shirt if they were open.” 

“Eddie,” you scoff, pushing his shoulder playfully, but hiding your blush behind the covers. You’re not about to let yourself get excited, not yet, you’re still positive he’s just trying to cheer you up. “You hate the concept of marriage.”

“Maybe,” he mumbles, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips, smile widening, “but I love you.” 

You roll your eyes, certain at this point he must be messing with you. “I love you too, weirdo, but I’ll be fine. You don’t have to pity-marry me.” 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, falling to his back with almost manic laughter and scrubs his hands down his face. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“What!?” You ask incredulously, propping yourself up so now you’re the one leaning over him, fixing him with a squint and another shake of your head. 

He peers up at you through soft lashes, those damn round eyes roaming your face as he contemplates how much he wants to admit. There’s another rosy hint to his cheeks, and a darker one to the tips of his ears exposed by his pulled back hair. You have to stop yourself from reaching out to palm his cheek again. 

Your breath is shallow as you wait for his response, replaying the conversation over and over in your head and trying to piece it together. You fear he can hear your heart beating in your chest as it hammers against your ribs, but if he can he doesn’t show it. He only shows his own nerves, the pinch between his brows and stuttering breath.

Shit– is he really as nervous as he seems? Is this conversation really headed where you think? 

“I just –” he shakes his head, tearing his eyes from your face in lieu of looking at the ceiling. Eye contact seems to be hard for the both of you, now. “I just told you that I love you and that I would fuckin’ marry you tomorrow, and you think it was just pity. Sweetheart, you may be a little dense sometimes but I know you’re not stupid.” 

“Well, I-” 

“Don’t argue with me,” he sits up, elbows to his knees and looks over his shoulder at you. You think it’s an attempt to hide the way he blushes further, but his ears give him away as always. “Listen. Use the brain in that pretty little head, come on, up.” He reaches out his hand for yours and pulls you up to sit beside him when you take it. You instinctively hug your legs to your chest for some sort of comfort and rest your cheek on your knee, looking at him. He smiles gently and mirrors you, both of you laughing when he trips up trying to cross his ankles. He’s a little too tall to be pulling this position but he’s determined. 

You’re both still hanging on the edge of giggles when he speaks up again. “Do you realize how much I just love this?” He asks, nudging your shoulder with his own. “I may not like – or even fully understand why or you have to bring the government into a relationship, but if it means I get to spend the rest of my life doing stupid shit with you, or doing nothing at all with you…doing everything with you? Sign me up.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, Eddie,” you admit, smiling and hiding your face in your knees, suddenly shy. “You don’t have to marry me just to keep me around.”

Again he mumbles, “maybe not.” A slow smile spreads on his cheeks as he reaches out to cradle your cheek in his hand, turning your face back toward him so you could no longer hide from his affection. Your cheeks burn, a hot mix of your flushed skin and this new, suddenly more intimate way of Eddie touching you. It doesn’t feel quite as platonic as it used to. “But I don’t want you to just stick around.” He’s the one to look away, just briefly, at his admission. Like saying it out loud was just too much pressure. With a stroke of his thumb over your bottom lip, he locks back on your eyes. “Don’t wanna send you off on dates with creeps and pick up the pieces after, or smile and nod when someone wants to buy you a drink when we’re out together. I wanna take you on dates and make sure they’re damn good from the get-go…I want to call you mine.” 

You lean into his touch, grinning from ear to ear. “How come you never said anything before?” 

“I didn’t think I had to,” he laughs suddenly, throwing his hands up in self defense. You’d never admit it out loud, but you already miss the warmth of his palm when they drop back into his lap. “I thought I was pretty obvious, always takin’ you out on date-like-outings and telling you how stunning you look and…I dunno, I thought I’ve been flirting with you for quite some time now.” 

There’s no stopping the giggle that you let out in response, “Eddie, you flirt with everyone.” 

“Fair point.” 

Reaching out, you take his hand and fold it between both of yours, staring at them while you think over your next response. “So then…why did you encourage me to go on so many dates? Play the wingman? Even when I told you all I wanted to do was hang out with you?” 

His skin flushes crimson, and he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.” 

Despite the way your chest tightens at his words and the way they leave you breathless, you can’t help but reply, “you dumbass.” He’s taken aback by your words but you’re both laughing still, “I’m happy with you.” 

“Well don’t we make an odd, oblivious couple.” 

There’s a beat of comfortable silence between you, and then it happens the way everything does between you and Eddie: naturally. One moment you’re laughing about how blind you’ve both been, and the next his lips are on yours. He kisses you slow, lazy, and without urgency, like he has all the time in the world to show you how he feels, his lips working yours open while you hold onto a fistful of his shirt. 

This kiss is the perfect punctuation to a conversation that neither of you were prepared for. It’s the start to something new, but it feels so right that it hardly feels like the start of anything, like this is how it’s always been. 

When he first breaks the kiss, you’re immediately drawn back to him, almost magnetically. The second you take a shaky breath, inhaling his familiar scent and lingering smoke in the air, you pull him back in by the collar to return his kiss fervently, deeper than the last. Without breaking your embrace, Eddie guides you down onto the bed and hovers over you, swallowing your sigh when he grips your waist tightly. His lips are softer than you’d imagined, but heavenly velvety against yours, and you can’t stop yourself from taking his bottom lip between your teeth and tugging with a coy smile. 

He hums, holding your face in place and peppering you with a few, smaller, chaste pecks before dropping a single kiss to the tip of your nose and then your forehead. 

There’s a twinkle in his eye when he asks, “so are we gettin’ married tomorrow, or what?” 

“Hmm,” your fingernails scratch at the nape of his neck gently as you dramatically  ponder his proposal and his eyes flutter shut at the sensation. “How about I start as your girlfriend for a little bit? And then maybe save marriage for…the third date.” You giggle, and you pause, the sincerity of your next comment choking you up before it even leaves your lips. “I love you, too, Eds. I just realized I never said it back, not really.” 

There’s a rumble of laughter in his chest where your head now rests, “yeah, you deserve that big dream wedding, anyway. None of that courthouse shit. When it comes time, you’re getting the works.” Another kiss dropped to the crown of your head, his lips lingering there and fingers drawing little circles in the skin of your shoulder. “But that takes time to plan, so…third date it is.”

[pourcap]

thoughts: kr chapter 11

hi! i’m alive. hope you’re all doing well :)

‘Strip her and send her to Vere as a slave?’ Damen didn’t move from the sill. Nikandros said, ‘You don’t really want that.’ ‘No,’ he said. ‘I want it to be worse.’ i get it. imagine the person you love betraying you like this. damen really had everything he held dear taken away from him within just a few hours. i can’t imagine how it must feel for him to see jokaste again after all he’s been through 

‘Put your best soldiers on her door, your most loyal, and choose them from among those who have no taste for women.' lol. smart

He knew what Veretian eyes saw when they looked at him: a barbarian in savage splendour. He did nothing to lessen the impression. He sat on the throne in armour, his thighs and arms heavy with bared muscle. i haven’t mentioned how hot i think damen is in a while, so: he’s so hot

He let him see Laurent too, let him see the picture they presented, royalty united. can’t they just rule both akielos and vere by each other’s sides???

(...) Damen liked it. He liked having Laurent beside him, liked letting the Regent’s herald see that Laurent had Akielos alongside him—had Damianos of Akielos, now in his favoured arena of war. i love them so much, and i love them working together just being a huge fuck you to the regent, and i love that all of this is the regent’s own fault for underestimating laurent and being prejudiced against damen

‘We accept the Regent’s surrender at Charcy,’ said Damen. so snarky. i love him so much.

‘No head in a bag?’ said Laurent. also very snarky. my heart hurts, though. nicaise has only really been in book 1 and i still miss him a lot :( (fuck the regent)

Laurent’s voice was mild. Relaxed on the throne, one leg extended out in front of himself, a wrist draped elegantly on the wooden arm, the shift in power was evident. He was no longer the rogue nephew, fighting alone on the border. He was a significant, newly established power, with lands and an army of his own. god i love him sooo much !!! i can’t believe one of the most cunning, insufferable and cruel protagonists i’ve ever encountered makes me so feel so soft for him. not that laurent isn’t also very sweet and caring and kind, or that his behavior isn’t understandable. he is this weird mix of really vicious and really cute. 

‘Your uncle is a good man. The Council has called for your death, but your uncle will not hear them. He will not accept the rumours that you have turned on your own people. He wants to give you the chance to prove yourself.' i haaaaaate the regent so much. soooo much. 

Laurent only regarded Estienne for a moment, before he turned his attention back to the herald. ‘‘All that is mine will be returned to me”? Were those his words? Tell me his exact words.' ??? i'm not following. what am i missing...?

well. there is no way the regent would let laurent live, even if he showed up for the trial.

‘Ride back to the Regent,’ said Damen, ‘and tell him this. All that is rightfully Laurent’s will return to him when he is King. (...) He faces Vere and Akielos united. And he will fall to our might.' soooo sexy. just. so sexy.

‘You are a patricide. You killed your own father, King Theomedes of Akielos.' honestly, kastor just annoys me. he never really does anything; never even showed up when damen was shipped off to vere, damen said he saw jokaste’s hand in every attempt to frame damen, not kastor’s, and now everything that goes on in akielos is being reported to damen by the regent’s men. even if the regent won at the end of all this, it’d be so easy for him to get rid of kastor.

With sudden double vision, Damen saw Laurent as he was, his true isolation. The Regent had done this to Laurent, had whittled away his support, had turned his people against him. He remembered trying to convince Laurent of the Regent’s benevolence in Arles, as naive as Estienne. Laurent had had a lifetime of this. sometimes i wonder how laurent managed to live through all this. his perseverance and strength are admirable, honestly. i’m pretty sure he was to nicaise what auguste was to him. 

‘I’d get a trial,’ said Laurent. ‘It’s what he wants. He wants me proven unfit. He wants the Council to ratify him as King so that he can rule with his claim wholly legitimised.' too bad that won’t ever happen <3

ugh. so jokaste is another one of the regent’s pawns.

He knew that he was not in control of himself. (...) He looked over at Laurent and said, flatly, ‘Deal with it.' i know i’ve said it before but damen and laurent as a duo are so sexy, and by now i am one-hundred percent convinced they could do anything as long as they have each other. there is so much respect and trust there, now, i can’t believe how far they’ve come.

 The extent to which she and Laurent resembled each other, in colouring, in their cool, intellectual lack of emotion, in the detachment with which they regarded one another, was both unnerving and extraordinary. they’re like ethereally beautiful horror twins

(...) ‘Damianos has sent me his bed boy. Blond, blue-eyed, and all laced up like a virgo intacta. You’re just his type.' obviously jokaste has very intimate knowledge of damen’s tastes, but i wonder if everyone in akielos just knows that their crown prince is a slut (affectionate) for gorgeous blondes. imagine everyone who has a pretty son or daughter with blonde hair showing up at the palace in hopes that damen might want to marry them.

‘I think we both know you weren’t the one fucking him. You were on your back with your legs in the air. He hasn’t changed that much.' now i want damen to bottom for laurent, just out of spite.

‘Confined?’ said Laurent. god, i love him. 

‘(...) But you and I both know that Damen does not make love like that. He took you slowly. He kissed you until you started to want it.' i mean... she’s not wrong. 

‘It’s heady, isn’t it?’ said Jokaste. ‘He was born to be a king. He’s not a stand-in, or a second choice, like you are. He rules men just by breathing. When he walks into a room, he commands it. People love him. Like they loved your brother.' i know she’s trying to provoke laurent but that’s pretty rich coming from someone who’s not even royal 

‘My dead brother,’ said Laurent helpfully. ‘Shall we now do the part where I spread for my brother’s killer? You can describe it again.' it’s so painful to think about how and why laurent can just switch his emotions off at once, to avoid being hurt. i love him so much and he makes me so sad  

Laurent said, ‘Now we are both telling the truth.' i know laurent is just looking to get a rise out of her, but it is sweet that he admitted to feeling that way about damen <3

‘You haven’t asked me about my son.' no way.

‘You have sent Damianos’s son to my uncle.' ugh. i think i really do hate jokaste.